


Hearts of Glass

by impatient14



Series: Animal Rights Series [1]
Category: Supernatural, deancas - Fandom, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Animal liberation front, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Deaths, Destiel A/U, Drug Use, F/F, M/M, Not as angsty as it sounds, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Rough and snarky cas, Slowish build, Starting Over, Suicidal Thoughts, animal rights, plenty of fun moments :), prologue is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 79,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impatient14/pseuds/impatient14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has lost what he thought to be the love of his life, his wife Lisa. After a long battle with cancer, Dean buries his life with her, along with her body. In an attempt to fight the temptation of becoming the worst version of himself, Dean moves to Lewes, Delaware, a small beach town where his parents owned a house on the beach. </p><p>It is in this small town that Dean meets Castiel, a reclusive anomaly who gives Dean a reason to keep fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Titles are Songs- Lyrics will give insight into one or multiple characters.
> 
> To be updated weekly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait- M83

_It’s days like today that make our lives less complicated._

_Today is unlike any other, and yet it is so very simple in its uniqueness._

_There are some things that I will do today, that I will not repeat tomorrow, or any day after._

_If I allow it to be, I imagine I could find comfort in this. I could allow myself to see today as any other that begins with a pink sky, and ends with a black one._

_I can look down at her, and inhale her beauty like every other morning for the last fourteen years._

_Today doesn't have to be any different._

_I can kiss her lips and be grateful she never liked wearing lipstick._

_I can brush the stray hair from her forehead, and imagine her skin is as warm as it once was._

_It wasn't always so pale. The natural olive tone that once kissed her flesh, has now been forgotten by her body. Her soul’s hasty retreat took the color of her skin along with the light in her eyes._

_There are no tears in my eyes this morning. I have none to give, she took them when she left me._

_Surrounded by soft pillowing fabric, her body looks swamped, like its fighting for dominance in her own coffin. I want to pull her free, deliver her from the dirt she will call home from now on, but I find myself unable to move._

_Standing over her, pretending not to hear the whispers behind me that tell me I should step away soon, I can't bring myself to do anything but stare down at her. I want to categorically memorize every aspect of this version of my wife, and erase it from my memory completely._

_I will forget the paste of her skin and the odd smell that has replaced the lavender that belongs to her. The uncharacteristic manicure of her nails, the eyeliner she never wore in life- all of it will be forgotten._

_I will stare down at her and replace each lie with the truth._

_The white dress she picked out herself. The bareness of her feet. The earrings her mother gave her when she was a little girl. The scar under her chin. These things are what makes this moment real. These are the things that mean I am burying my wife today._

_So I will stand here, and I will forget and remember simultaneously._

_Because if I stand here long enough, maybe I will overcome the urge to climb in with her. ___


	2. Work Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work Song- Hozier

_”It’s alright sweetheart, our time may be up, but it doesn't make it any less of a perfect life together.”_

_“That may be the stupidest thing to have ever come out of your mouth Lis.” I shake my head, and look down at our interwoven fingers, comfortably bedded among her hospital sheets._

_When I look up I know I’ll see my wife smiling brightly at me and I don't want to see it. I don't want to see the beauty of her lips, fucking my emotions up even more._

_I look up anyway._

_It takes a sucking inhale and a quiet moan for me to finally nod and return her smile._

_“Dean,” Her voice is soft, and not just from its slow decent into being unusable. “We had an amazing life. Didn't we?”_

_I can't deny that, so I nod again. “Of course. But it doesn't mean we don't deserve more.”_

_I know I’m crying, but I don't bother to wipe away the tears. “I don't want to do this Lisa. I can't do this without you.”_

_Her hand is on my face now, her thumb stroking my cheek despite how much pain I know she is in. I pull it away and place it on her belly. “You can.” She whispers. “You are strong. You are stronger than you know Dean.”_

_“You made me strong. It was for you... I was nothing before you... ill be nothing after you.”_

_I’m mumbling, but I know she understands me._

_“You fool, you have always been something.”_

_She smiles and I swallow back my biting retort because these may be her last words, and I don't want to interrupt the memory with my own voice._

_“To the people lucky enough to know and love you, to the world who has been brighter since you fell onto it...”_

_I suppress an eye roll at the overly dramatic words._

_“To me, Dean.. You are my everything.”_

_At that, my tears begin to pour freely, the steady stream I had been letting leak, growing into a roaring rapid of despair._

_“Please.” I don't know if she can understand me through my sobs, but I beg her nonetheless, my shoulders shaking and heaving, my body collapsing over hers._

_“Don't do this, Don't leave me.”_

_There are hands in my hair now, and that only makes me cry harder. She is whispering things to me, I know this because I can feel her lips moving against my cheek, but I cannot hear her through my own pleas. “I need you baby, please... please don't go.”_

*

 

The phone is ringing. 

I know the phone is ringing, but I can't bring myself to give a fuck. 

The bed is cold without her, I haven't slept in three days, and the phone is ringing. 

Despite my utter disinterest in whoever is calling me, my body rolls over and collects my cell phone from the bedside table. Without looking at the screen, I flip it open and bring it to my ear. 

“What?”

“Well hello to you too, boy.” The gruff and familiar voice of my surrogate father Bobby is in my ear. If it were any other time, I would find his whiskey soaked voice comforting, but this morning I want to reach through the phone and beat him senseless with the raggedy old baseball cap I know to be sitting on his head.

“What do you want Bobby?”

“Just checkin’ on you kid. Haven't heard from you since... well, you know... And I just wanted to make sure you weren't doing’ anything stupid over there.”

“Uh huh.” My eyes are still closed, but they roll anyway. “I’m not drunk Bobby.”

“I wasn't saying that or nothing.” Bobby defended quickly. “But, uh... maybe we ought to hit a meeting anyway, you know- stressful times and all.”

The urge to stop at the liquor store on the way home from Lisa’s funeral had been the strongest I’d felt in fifteen years, but I managed to speed past it. It wasn't a promise, though. There was a familiar itch crawling up my skin now, and I knew where it led and how to scratch it, but I hadn't done so yet.

“Yeah.” I say, only to get him off the phone. “Alright.”

“There’s one at four at St. Andrews. Sound good?” Bobby was one eager son of a bitch this morning, but there was no point in putting it off.

“Sure.”

“How about dinner after?” 

“Don't push it Bobby.” I didn't care how much that sounded like a growl. “I’ll see you later.”

“Alright, alright. Take care of yourself boy.” His voice was tinged with annoyed concern, but I end the call with a curt- “Yep.” 

The phone falls next to my head and I finally find the will to open my eyes.

Our bedroom ceiling is the first thing I see and its a welcome blank slate. There are no memories associated with this ceiling because it is utterly ordinary. It is white and without stains, nothing about it springs memories of my life with Lisa to mind. Every other ceiling looks like this one, and it's safe to stare.

I’ve been living in this condo for ten years. 

I shared it with the wife I now talk about in the past tense. 

It was the first thing we owned together, since Lisa had moved into my apartment in Roxbury when we got together. Thankfully, she got a permanent teaching position not long after she moved in, and I got a raise or two after a few years at the shop, so we were able to save enough to buy a place on Castle Island.

Neither of us grew up in Boston, but it became our home once we made one together. Lisa came here for college, I came here because there was no where else for me to go. I followed my high school girlfriend, and basically lived in a blood and liquor soaked gutter until Bobby found me and pulled me out of it. 

I was nineteen when he picked me off of the pavement, saying he got a tip from my father about where I was. I remember yelling in his face that it was impossible, that my dad didn't give two shits about what I did with my life, let alone care enough to send Bobby to find me.

Bobby called me a dumbass and took me home with him. He cleaned me up, ignored my protests that I wasn't worth it, and put me to work as a cashier at his auto shop. 

It was there I fell in love with cars. I had always had a healthy appreciation for them, but working at that shop made me want to learn absolutely everything I could about building an engine. The parts fit together like pieces of a much more interesting puzzle than the ones of horses my mother used to leave on our kitchen table. I could take them apart and put them back together in ways that left my hands throbbing contently and my mind pulsing with anticipation. 

An engine, a body, brakes, and treads; all of it came together to form my salvation.

It was a pathway to freedom, a highway to a life worth living.

Bobby helped me get through mechanic school and gave me a job once I was out. He never asked more from me than to work my ass off getting my degree, and to show up to work on time. It came naturally to me, working on cars, it was something I could do to erase the memories alcohol had drowned out before. 

They were childhood friends, Bobby and my father, but I never saw him more than a few times over the course of my life before he saved me. He had moved from Sterling, Virginia to Boston when I was only six or seven, but I do remember him, letting my little brother ride on his back like a horse until Sammy threw up on Bobby’s trucker hat. He spouted out words I had never heard before, but use frequently now, and the smile he was wearing between curses made me warm to him instantly. 

I don't think I’ve ever laughed harder. 

Of course that was before everything went to hell. 

All of these facts lead me to keep my eyes open this morning. I did have a life before Lisa, even if it was absolute shit, and I will have a life after her too.

Even if it's absolute shit.

I don't have any great plans for the first day I return to the living without my wife, I figure I should keep it light. 

Today I am simply going to get up, shower, and eat breakfast. It seems like a major feat considering I’ve done none of those things for two days straight, but there was a time I did those things without thinking.

I’ll also meet Bobby for an AA meeting at the church around the corner, and I’ll force myself to eat something again before falling back into bed tonight. 

Maybe I’ll even smash a few plates of our wedding china if I’m feeling up to it.

With a loud grunt somewhere between encouragement and protest, I make my first move towards my goal.

Sitting up hurts, but making the determined walk towards the bathroom hurts more. 

Taking myself through the motions of life, it’s the exact kind of pain I was expecting, but would sell my soul to do without. 

I don't want to live, not really. I wanted to go with her.

But now I walk down the hallway that we painted a mossy green despite my screams about how stupid a color that was. It was muted and too colorless to be labeled green. I still hate it this morning, but I find myself wanting to carve out a piece of the wall and put it in the pocket of the jeans Lisa bought me for Christmas last year. 

The bathroom is no better.

It has sea shells from my parents' beach house (well my beach house now) and Lisa’s Women’s Health magazines. There are hotel shampoo bottles in the cabinet from our latest trip to New York, and a bar of soap on the counter that has never been used. I asked why it was there about a hundred times, not understanding why it had to take up space on the counter if we had a liquid soap dispenser on the other side, but Lisa had insisted on using the soap holder that matched the toothbrush holder so there it was. 

There are grumbles coming from my mouth as I enter the shower’s stream that hasn't had time to warm up, but it is nothing more than a string of curses.

It's the first shower I’ve had since the morning of Lisa’s funeral, and when I lift my arms to run my hands through my hair I can smell the last two nights of sweat and tears in my armpits. Part of me feels guilty for washing away the stink of my grief, like it's a badge I should be wearing in honor of my dead wife, but a much saner rationality tells me I am a fucking idiot and I proceed to scrub away my BO.

We always shared body wash and shampoo. 

I’ve never felt the need to buy the stuff made especially for men, and I actually preferred the smells that were marketed towards women. Lisa almost never bought the same thing twice, but usually stuck to the same range of scents. Lavender was her favorite, but knowing I preferred coconut or something with citrus on myself, she changed it up regularly. 

This morning, pomegranate fills my senses and it occurs to me mid scrub that this was one of the last things my wife had bought. The bottle is nearly empty now, having been bought on a rare good day over two months ago. 

She had insisted on going out that day, and I indulged her in a quick trip to the supermarket since it was only a few miles away and I could get us back in under half an hour if I kept the list short. 

My worries were unfounded though, and we had a great afternoon. It included a stop at the coffee shop next to our house ,and sex that I could just barely get it up for. 

It wasn't that I was no longer attracted to Lisa, it just felt wrong somehow. We had been given the terminal diagnosis a few months earlier, Lisa had been declining in health more rapidly, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. Pushing my façade of an ego aside, I am a well endowed man, and I didn't think cancer patients were supposed to handle heavy machinery. 

When I said as much though, I received a slap in the face and my wife dropped to her knees. 

Nothing like a blow-job from your dying wife to get you in the mood.

I did manage to get it up though, and this morning I am grateful for it. Despite its slow rhythm and repeated interruption to apply more lube, I was fully aware that might have been the last time I would make love to my wife, and that fact made it both devastating and amazing at the same time. 

The memory clings to me as I finish washing myself, soaking into my skin like the soap I used to wash away the stink of my grief.

Turning off the water took much longer than it should have because getting out of the shower was far harder than getting in. 

The things I have to do next lead me closer and closer to living my life again, and I don't think I’m ready for that. The now piping hot water burning my skin is a barrier against the world outside, my scalded flesh a welcome physical distraction from the true pain that awaits me.

A very loud complaint from my stomach insists I get my ass out of the shower though, so I turn the knob to turn off the water spray and grab a towel from the hook on the wall. 

It matches the color of our hallway.


	3. To Build a Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Build a Home- The Cinematic Orchestra

The walk to the church earlier this afternoon was as eventful as my morning; ordinary in its approach, but mind-bending in its execution. 

Each step was familiar, each crack in the sidewalk a road sign to tell me I was going in the right direction, but the very real fact that I was able to make that journey was boggling my mind. That my life was continuing, moving forward and not slipping through the very cracks in which I follow to the church, it was a surreal experience. My wife, my partner, the person I had spent the last fourteen years growing with and loving more than I ever loved myself, she is gone.

She is dead, and I still live to walk over the cracks in the sidewalk. 

Bobby was waiting for me when I got to the church’s basement, where the meetings took place. People sat in chairs arranged in rows, but Bobby stood in the back, waiting for me to arrive. The meeting hadn't started yet, and there were a few people pouring themselves coffee from the pot on the table at the side of the room.

“Thought you might not show.” Bobby said to me, his voice lowered but still loud enough for a few people to turn around and look at us.

“But then I’d have to listen to you bitch, old man.” I walked around him and found a seat in the back row. It had been a few months since my last meeting, but I still had no intention of speaking.

“Can it, junior.” Bobby griped behind me, following my path to the last row.

Thankfully the meeting started quickly thereafter, and only three people got up to speak. I cringed when it was time for the chants, but let the words tumble from my mouth nonetheless. 

By the time we make it back outside, I am craving a drink more than I was when I entered, and it's pretty obvious to me that Bobby can tell. 

“How about you let me buy you some food, and we can talk about what you’re going to do next son.”

I want to argue. I want to tell him that I don't need to discuss anything, especially not my future, but I only nod. Food actually sounds good, and my craving for a scotch and soda will only be stronger if I go home alone.

So here I sit, staring across the booth at the man who became my father, and wishing like hell I could trade places with my dead wife. 

“You take as much time as you need, you hear?” Bobby was saying, making sure I knew I could wait to come back to work until I was ready. “But you may find it easier to... cope... or whatever, if you’re busy.”

Bobby stabs a fork into his gravy soaked fries and angles one into his mouth.

“Yeah.” I say, because I’m not known for my ability to share my feelings, and there is nothing more waiting on my tongue.

I couldn’t imagine not going back to work soon anyway, I am alone all of the time now. 

Being surrounded by car parts, and sweat and grease stained men, that sounds like my particular brand of heaven at the moment.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night for dinner? Ellen been yappin’ my ear off about getting you to her.” Bobby continued to shovel food into his mouth, holding a paper napkin in his hand that periodically wipes gravy off of his lumberjack beard.

“Bobby,” I hope my voice sounds as stern as it’s meant to, “Can’t I just have some time? Jesus Christ, I just buried my wife, I don’t want to go to a dinner party and have Ellen falling all over herself trying to shove food down my throat.”

“Hey, I get it Dean.” Bobby says gruffly. “But you and I both know how hard it is to keep her from getting what she wants.”

I want to argue, but the truth keeps me silent. 

Bobby’s wife is a strong and colorful woman, and I have very little chance of getting out of her dinner invitation for long. 

She married Bobby about five years after Lisa and I got hitched, and she has been bossing all of us around ever since. Of course, the woman has basically adopted me as her own, so I can’t complain too much about her abrasiveness. She only acts out of love, and that's already more than I deserve.

“Yeah, I know it.” I finally say, pushing the last of my pork sandwich into my mouth and chewing it lazily. “Maybe next week?”

“I’ll tell her.” Bobby nods. “You gonna be alright tonight?”

How do I answer that? 

If he is asking if I plan on turning the bottle up, the answer is no. 

If he is asking if I plan to make it through the night, the answer is yes. 

But if he wants to know if I will be spending my evening doing anything other than crying over old pictures and lying in sheets I haven’t changed because I can still smell Lisa on them, I will have to lie.

“As much as I can be.” 

That’s a safe enough answer.

Bobby seems to disagree by the way his jaw sets in an irritated click, but he stays silent.

A few minutes later, Bobby is paying the check and leaning his way out of the booth. “You done here?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on then, I’ll walk you home.” Bobby doesn't wait for me to answer, just turns and walks towards the doors of the diner.

“You don't have to,” I say, when we get outside. “I don't need a babysitter walking me home Bobby.”

“Do I look like a fifteen year old girl?” Bobby snaps back. “Just let me do this boy, and shut your trap.”

His sharp, but harmless tongue pulls something like laughter from my belly, but the twinge of affection isn’t enough to let my amusement escape. “Yeah, okay.” 

The walk home is silent, a gift Bobby gives me in return for letting him walk me home. When we make it to my front door, his hand goes to my shoulder for a moment before telling me goodbye. 

It’s quick and painless, outwardly devoid of emotion, but I can always see how much Bobby cares for me in his eyes.

Once I’m inside, the smell of my house assaults me, and I think maybe I will always hate coming home now. There are a few different scents floating through the air, but every single one reminds me of Lisa.

The bananas I continued to buy, despite my hatred for them, are fragrant as they ripen on the counter. They were one of the only things Lisa could stomach towards the end, and I find myself unable to throw them out now.

The coffee from this morning, still lingers, like its collecting dust in the room. Lisa never liked coffee, but she still made it for me every morning that she was up first. 

My eyes flicker to the living room where the perfume sticks Lisa bought at Target stick out of oil, in a bottle on the shelf. She said it was a decorative way to freshen up the room, and I pretended to find it stupid, when really I loved the way the citrus scented oil clung to every surface of the living room. 

It isn’t fair, having to continue my life in a place I no longer wish to be. 

This house was meant for us, for me and Lisa. It was meant for us to have a family.

And now I will live here alone. Smelling Lisa until she disappears completely and I am left with nothing.

I push off from where I am leaning on the front door and walk slowly to the kitchen. 

There is a wild thought pushing through my brain now, and I want to move my body while I think it out.

I don't have to live here. 

The truth is, no matter where I go, I will be alone. So why not live somewhere Lisa doesn't haunt me? I shouldn't have to hate coming home or falling into bed. I shouldn't have to physically live with the memories that will already be pushing themselves in my head.

I could move.

I could pack up and leave this house, leave this town.

There are garages everywhere, it wouldn’t be hard for me to find work.

My mind continues to plan out my escape as I find my way to the couch. It dips under my weight, and the air that escapes the cushions as I sit smells of citrus and lavender.

I need to buy new furniture too.

My eyes close and my head tilts back into the couch. 

Maybe I will sleep here tonight, maybe I will actually be able to sleep if I am not using Lisa’s pillow to muffle my cries.

The clock on the wall above the television chimes, and I snicker to myself because I used to hate that fucking thing, but now welcome the break in silence. It brings me to my feet and I’m taking down the clock and pulling out its batteries before I realize I’ve gotten up.

There are pictures lining the shelves next to the television and I purposely avoid looking at them. But as I reach to turn them all face down, a bright blue frame grabs my attention, and I know what picture I will find inside. 

It’s safe to look at, as I know Lisa is not in it.

I place the clock on the ground and pick up the frame, rubbing my thumb absently over the woman smiling back at me.

It’s a picture of my parents, standing in front the of the beach house they bought a few years before they died. The picture was taken recently, though, and my father has his arm slung over my mother’s shoulders, his smile barely a lift in the corners of his mouth. 

My father, a marine and general hard-ass, almost never smiled wider than that. There are times I wonder if he used to, before I got fucked up and Sam died, but it's impossible for me to know now. Well, not impossible, seeing as though there are probably old pictures in the boxes I had sent to storage, but I don't necessarily want to find the answer. 

If my father became physically incapable of smiling because of me, I’d rather not know. If I caused his eyes to look as though they’ve seen more than their fair share of hell, I’d like to keep that fact boxed away forever.

I’m not stupid enough to believe people are born with sadness in their eyes though.

My gaze is drawn to the house behind them. A small cottage surrounded by sand and a pebbled driveway. There is a dune to the right and just behind the house, and a crystal blue sky that could only be hovering above an ocean.

They willed this house to me when they died, and I’ve been renting it out to beach goers ever since.

I could go there.

Lisa and I only went to that house once, and only for a weekend to box up the personal stuff so that the house could be ready to rent. There won't be many memories of her being there to torture me.

The house won't smell of her, it will smell of salt and sand, and everything that isn’t this house.

If I stay in this house, it will kill me. I will drink myself stupid, and I will die in a puddle of my own vomit. 

 

As I replace the picture to the shelf, I keep my eyes steady on the house behind my parents. My breath hitches in my throat as I try to imagine the life waiting for me in that house.

A life where I’ve traded the ghost of my wife, for the ghosts of my past.


	4. Off I Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Off I Go- Greg Laswell

It took me three months to put everything in order.

Convincing Bobby that I was alright took the longest. He needed to be thoroughly convinced that If I left town and started fresh somewhere else, it didn’t mean I would be dead in a ditch within a week. I made promises about going to meetings that I’m not sure about keeping, but he eventually relented.

The logistics, like selling the condo and getting the shit I cared enough about to keep to the beach house, were far easier tasks than I planned for. I hired a realtor, fully expecting to spend the next few months trying to convince someone to buy that place, but as it turned out, my realtor got it sold after only being on the market for two weeks. She went on about something to do with a ‘seller’s market’, but I made every effort to ignore just about everything I could relating to that house.

It's not as if I’m trying to forget Lisa, or the life we led together, but- well, actually, I guess that's exactly what I’m doing. I’m okay leaving behind the friends I’ve made, the world I created for myself over the last decade, if it means I don't have to see things or people that remind me of everything I’ve lost.

It hurts too fucking much to let myself think of her, or of what we would be doing right now if she wasn’t under eight feet of dirt. I’d rather pretend I’m merely starting over, instead of just delaying the inevitable end. The very real truth, something that I’ve known the moment we got Lisa’s diagnosis, is that am not long for this life. 

I’m not talking about offing myself or anything like that, but I don’t see myself living terribly long without Lisa here to ground me, to heal me. I may have gotten sober before we met, but I’m positive I wouldn't have stayed that way for as long as I have, without having her by my side.

Too many memories, too much pain and debilitating self-hatred that no longer gets taken away by the easiness of her smile, or the feel of her soft skin on my face. I have nothing to take all of that shit away, I have nothing left to make me forget. 

I suppose it will only be a matter of time before I fall back on old habits, but I don’t intend on hitting the booze right away either. I figure I owe it to Lisa to, at least, _try_ to go it alone first.

I am not above admitting, though, that I don't find myself lasting that long.

*

The drive to Lewes is fairly uneventful, the fall traffic to the beach practically nonexistent. By the time my baby (67’ Chevy Impala I rebuilt a few years back) pulls up onto the pebble driveway, the heartache of leaving Lisa behind is beginning to lessen, but the terror of loneliness is just settling in. 

There aren’t many things that scare me anymore, but the thought of being alone is able to make my heart beat rapidly in my chest like it’s preparing to make a run for it; like it knows what it's in for, and would rather just get my impending demise over with.

It doesn't take me long to bring my three suitcases and two boxes of crap into the house, the strong aroma of cleaning supplies still in the air as I enter. The cleaning service that came after each rental will stop now, and I contemplate hiring them back once I get a steady income. 

Bobby looked into a few garages in the area, and made a phone call on my behalf, so I’ve got a job interview tomorrow. I can walk to the shop from here, so I’m hoping it works out.

I talked to the realtor I had hired after my parents died, and he was able to cancel all the bookings on the house except for one, the weekend of Thanksgiving, which is less than six weeks away. It was seen as too little amount of time to cancel, and the nasally receptionist explained that I’d have to pay the deposit back out of pocket. Since I don't really have a job yet, I’d rather spend eighty bucks a night at a cheap hotel, then fork over the four hundred dollar deposit. 

I’ve only been in this house once before, so my eyes begin scanning the place for familiarity, as I set my things down in the small entryway. There is a small porch outside the front door, just enough space for two wicker chairs and a little side table. Inside, the living room is directly to the right of the front door, a couch and two recliners set up against the wall and facing a beat-up entertainment center against the opposite wall. I know there to be an old, shitty boxed television set inside and I make a mental note to replace the whole thing as quickly as possible.

As I move further into the house, there is a small hallway on the left that leads to two bedrooms and a bathroom. There is a small spiral staircase at the edge of the living room, before it joins the kitchen, and it leads to a loft upstairs. Its presence made it possible to list the house as a three bedroom, and it upped the sleep count significantly since we put a queen sized bed on one side of the large loft, and two twins in the other. 

The kitchen is modest, a small, glass round table perched on the side that would be plenty big for just me and my seven cups of coffee that I’d forget to put in the dishwasher throughout the day. There is a sliding glass door off of the kitchen that leads to a screened-in porch. It’s sizeable, considering the small nature of the house itself, and I can already see myself spending a large portion of my time out there. 

The view from the porch is obnoxiously perfect, with only a small sand dune on the way down the short walk to the water. I can see the waves from behind the black screen of the porch, and it hits me that there is nothing else I want to look at for the foreseeable future. 

A memory, though, severs my connection with the ocean, and I turn around to face the left side of the porch. The outdoor shower, I remember making a mental note to fuck Lisa in the next time we were here, is mocking me from its place next to the porch stairs. Its wooden boards taunt me, like they are just as disappointed as I am about not being able to see my shower fantasy come to fruition.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I make my way back into the house. 

It's nearly dinner time, and since I don't have any food yet, I am going to have to go out to cure my rising hunger. I saw a dive around the corner when I was driving in, so I figure that is as good a place as any tonight. 

Most recovered alcoholics worry about the kind of places they put themselves in. It isn't exactly wise to surround yourself in booze if you’re constantly on the verge of taking a sip yourself. For me though, I didn't really struggle with being around alcohol after a few years of being in the program and being with Lisa. 

In fact, I would regularly visit my friend Vic at the bar he worked at. I’d order a club soda, sometimes eat dinner too, right at the bar and rarely felt the urge to go back to drinking. I would sometimes ponder the idea of being able to have _just one_ ,and I’d imagine that I could be a normal person again. Of course, I never gave in to the beautiful temptation that was Vic’s bartending prowess. I had no real reason to, not anymore.

I only started drinking because I was trying to escape the truth about myself, just like every other teen living with a secret they knew their parents wouldn’t approve of. It was casual enough, limited to weekends and nights out with my friends. The dependency, that didn't happen until it became absolutely imperative that I forget everything. 

Vodka was the only way to get the sound of my mother’s pleas out my ears. Scotch was the remedy for getting the smell of charred flesh out of my nose. 

Drinking didn’t take the pain away, but it dulled it to a survivable ache.

The first year of sobriety brought back a lot of that shit, stuff I wasn't ready to deal with. I hadn't really talked to my parents since I left home, and without the bravery alcohol gave me, I found no reason to burden them with the sound of my voice on their answering machine. Without booze, and having not met Lisa yet, I didn't really have anything to keep me from thinking about my parents every moment of every day though.

Except, of course, when I was thinking about Sam. 

If it wasn't for Bobby, I wouldn't have lasted that first year of sobriety. His own battle with alcoholism helped me work through a lot of shit. Although, when the time came to forgive myself for my actions, I found myself incapable of doing so. 

It wasn't until meeting Lisa, and getting more distance from the night that destroyed my family, did I finally begin to really heal. Every moment leading up to that was more like a trial, like I was trying sobriety on for size, but unwilling to commit fully.

Lisa though, she made me think I could be worth something again. If she could love me, then maybe I wasn’t such a lost cause after all. 

It took a while, a few years at least, but I eventually didn't feel like I depended on her for validation. Her presence still made me more aware of my choices, made me want to try that much harder to stay sober, but I didn’t rely on her to make me feel good about myself anymore. 

It was a good feeling, not hating myself and thinking I was actually worth a damn.

But now, my reason for living is gone, and I’m left with nothing but the familiar weight of irrelevance. She was the reason I mattered again, she was the reason I kept fighting for a life worth living.

What do I have now?

*

The walk to the dive down the street is slower than I anticipated, taking twice the amount of time I thought it would. The sidewalk is littered with people, mostly old couples walking hand-in-hand, or families riding their bikes home from dinner out. By the time I make it to the front door, I’m annoyed and more out of breath than I’m comfortable admitting. I used to work out pretty regularly, but since Lisa got sick, I haven't done much of anything. 

I’m mentally making a date with the beach for a run the following morning, when I open the door to the restaurant I now see is called _Loki’s Palace_ , and step through the threshold. 

I am immediately assaulted by a hard body trying to exit.

Our chests collide and I’m searching for an apology as I step back, but the words get lost on my tongue as the person keeps their head down, and steps around me quickly. I get a quick glimpse of stubbled cheeks, and hear a muttered curse between chapped lips, before the man is a blur, walking off briskly into the night.

Something makes me stop and look after him for a moment, the waft of smoke and whiskey the man leaves in his wake both irking and intoxicating, drawing my attention to his retreating figure. I can just barely make out a messy head of dark hair and the distant orange glow of a lit cigarette before there is a yell from behind me, and I turn back towards the bar.

A short man with shoulder length hair tucked behind his ears is grinning madly from behind the bar.

“You don’t have to be so dramatic!” The bartender calls to the man already too far to hear him, “Nearly ran over the new guy!” 

There is an irritation creeping up my neck at that statement, but the bartender’s wide grin disarms me, and I find myself smirking in return. I can’t remember the last time I actually smiled, and it occurs to me this man has no idea who I am or when the last time I smiled was. 

He doesn't know I’m a widower. He hasn’t a clue about my history with the gutters of Boston, or that I have two dead parents, that stopped loving me when I was sixteen. 

It's a blank slate. 

It's exactly what I wanted, and I find my smirk growing into a small grin.

“Don't let him scare you off,” The bartender continues, “He is just a big baby really.”

I’m not really sure what to say to that, but figure if I’m going to make the impression that I’m not teetering on the edge of that proverbial cliff, I should make it amusing.

“Wouldn’t it be illegal to serve him then?” I cringe at the cheesiness of the line as I walk over to the bar and pull out a seat, but the man is laughing heartily and I relax slightly. 

“I’ve never really shied away from something just because the ugly guys in suits tell me not to do it.” The bartender shrugs, pulling a menu from under the bar and placing it in front of me. “Call it a character flaw.”

A sound very close to a chuckle escapes my lips and I’m sure my own surprise is written all over my face. If the bartender notices though, he doesn't mention it.

“ I haven't seen you in here before, you renting?” The man asks, pulling dirty glasses from the bar ledge and moving them to the sink behind the bar.

“No. Just moved in today.” I say, much more casually than the event actually signified.

“Oh?” The bartender purses his lips slightly before giving me the once over. “What brings a fine piece like yourself to a place largely populated by _Columbo_ watchers?”

I raise my eyebrows at the compliment, but don't mention it. “Just needed a change I guess.”

“Hmm.” The man stares at me for a long moment, something I’m not entirely sure how to handle, before he looks down at the menu. “Booze? Food? Both?”

And because the habit of answering this question takes the decision out of my hands, my mouth opens to speak before I have a chance to let my options marinate. “Club soda, with a lime.”

The bartender nods easily, not giving a second thought to my choice of beverage, and turns away to grab a glass to make my drink. “Food?”

“Yeah,” I say vaguely, looking down to the menu and eyeing it quickly before landing on the burger selections. “The BBQ burger sounds good.”

“You betcher ass it does. It's my very own recipe.” He says back proudly. “Alfie back there rarely screws it up too badly either.”

“Good to know.” I answer with another smirk. The door opens behind me and I turn my head around to look in that direction. An old man with a long white beard enters, wiping out the image of dark hair and worn jeans that had filled my mind the moment I heard the door open. 

My curiosity gets the best of me and I turn back to the bartender. “So, uh- who was that guy before? The one that nearly ran me over on my way in here.”

“Oh Mr. Dramatic?” He smirks and shakes his head with a sigh. “Don’t mind him, he was just in a mood.”

“Friend of yours?” I ask, not letting myself question my sudden interest.

“Sometimes.” He answers easily. “I’m Gabe, by the way.” He passes me my drink and turns back towards a computer to put in my order.

“Thank you Gabe.” I say around the first sip of my drink. The tang of the lime and carbonation tickles my nose, causing a sort of sense memory that relaxes my muscles, and I settle back into my seat.

Gabe turns around and is looking at me expectantly as I sip my drink. I have a flash of worry that maybe he spiked the club soda as some sort of prank, but the familiar taste soothes my anxiety and I just stare back, cocking my brow in an invitation to say whatever the fuck it is he is holding back.

“If you’re going to be claiming a bar stool of your very own, I should probably have something to call you too.” There is a note of tension in his voice, but Gabe’s expression is soft enough for me to answer honestly.

“Dean.” 

Gabe nods and smiles at me mischievously. “Well Dean, let me be the first to welcome you to Lewes. Plan on staying awhile?”

“Think so.” I answer back timidly. “You think that's a good idea?” I’m not really sure why I ask, but something about Gabe makes me feel like I want to keep talking. 

“Oh Dean-O, getting the hell out of this place is probably the best thing for you.” He answers back with another grin, leaning over the bar slightly. “Then again, the stuff that’s good for you is rarely any fun.”


	5. Swallowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swallowed- Bush

“Well, your timing is damn near perfect kid. My best mechanic broke his back in a boating accident and is laid up for God knows how long.” The garage manager, Rufus, says to me across his desk. “Bobby vouching for you is good enough for me. When can you start?”

A flutter of satisfaction heats my skin and I answer immediately. “Tomorrow works for me.”

“Alright, be here at eight and I’ll have Benny give you the run down.” The manager stands and extends his hand to me. My own hand reaches up as I find my feet and shakes his.

“Sounds good, thank you Rufus.”

“Like I said, if you’re as good as Bobby says, you’ll be doing me a favor.” 

I smile at him casually and turn back towards the door. “Okay then, see you tomorrow.”

“Yep.” I hear him reply back to me, the creak of his chair, signaling he had gone back to the paperwork on his desk.

The upcoming winter’s wind assaults my face as I step back outside. The garage is only a twenty minute walk from the beach house, and I find myself looking forward to the trip home. It gives me a chance to think through the very real problem that has already begun to present itself.

Last night’s experiment had gone relatively well, I only bit down on my lip once to keep from ordering a scotch and soda. There was one moment though, that i felt the overwhelming urge to run screaming from the bar with a bottle of whatever my hand could grab, on the way out. It was fleeting, but powerful nonetheless. 

It made me want to rethink my usual practice of visiting bars, and trusting myself not to indulge. But it also presented me with the reoccurring thought: _“Maybe I really can do better this time._

Maybe my alcoholism was truly environmental and related only to the situations around me, and not a biological addiction. Maybe I can control myself now that I am older, and more in control of my life. It only takes a few moments of these thoughts though, for me to remember that the most stable aspect of my life is currently rotting under Boston soil.

My wife gave me a, kind of, false sense of security that still haunts me. I felt so at ease in the life we created together, it is no wonder some of that feeling has bled over into the life I lead now. Those thoughts of being able to control my alcohol intake happened often over the last fourteen years, but I never felt the need to test it. 

Now that I am feeling more and more compelled to take the risk, I no longer have my wife to pick me back up if I fall. I am without a life jacket, despite the very real possibility that I could drown.  
I continue to struggle with my own thoughts and desires as I take the first steps onto my gravel driveway. I decide to go into the house and grab a few of the reusable shopping bags Lisa insisted on years ago, and drive to the grocery store. There is nothing but yellow mustard and a bottle of olives in the fridge, and I don't plan to eat out at every meal. 

 

By the time I make it to the grocery store, it is well past the time I usually eat lunch and I am starving. My hunger fills the basket much faster than usual, and I find it almost impossible to fit in everything the house needs. Thankfully, a woman at one of the registers sees my struggle and offers to take the cart up and begin the checkout process, as I finish up my shopping with another cart. 

I fill the second cart about a third of the way before I feel confident that I’ve gotten everything I would need for the next few weeks. I don’t like to go to the chain grocery stores regularly and typically buy produce at local food stands, but having not scoped out any farmers markets yet, I buy enough produce to keep for a week. 

When i get to the register, the woman is about half way through the first cart, both reusable bags filled to the brim.

“There is no way I’m going to be able to get all of these in these two bags. You got anymore, honey?” The older woman asks me.

“No, I’m sorry. I only have the two. Do you sell any?”

“Sure do.” The woman raises her arm up to point behind me. “There's a rack over there with a few different sizes. I expect you’ll need at least five big ones if you want all these to fit darlin’.”

“Alright, thanks.” I say, walking over to the bags and grabbing five large ones and two medium sized ones. “Here you go.” I force a smile as I hand her the bags.

“Stockin’ up for the winter?” She asks with a twinge of humor.

“New house, need a little of everything.” I explain.

“Oh really? Where you from?” 

“Boston.” I answer before I have a chance to think it through.

“Oh big city type huh? What brings you down here?” She continues to ring up and pack the bags and I place them back in the cart once they are full.

“Needed a change I guess.” I haven't quite decided how I plan to answer these questions much further than that, and I pray she doesn't ask for more details.  
“Well, you’ll certainly get that then. I hope you don't expect more than peace and quiet here.” 

“Hmm.” I smile again because I don't know what to say to that. I didn't move here because I wanted peace and quiet, in fact, living in silence scares the hell out of me. If anything, I need distraction, commotion. It occurs to me that moving here was definitely not the smartest thing I could have done, but it made the most sense logistically so I’ll have to make do.

“Well, that’s the last of it.” She finishes packing the last bag and I place it on top of the others. She rattles off the price and I do my best to keep my eyes in their sockets as I pull out my credit card. I calm my anxiety attack with the knowledge that I would begin working tomorrow, and would be able to pay my credit card bill with my first check. 

I thank the cashier and she smiles warmly back at me as I wave goodbye. It was an odd gesture, feeling foreign the moment I performed it, but she seemed to appreciate it.

The drive home is quick. It’s only ten minutes before I am pulling up the driveway again and hauling the bags of groceries into the house. The kitchen floor is covered in blue bags in a matter of moments, and I set to work in putting everything away. It takes me almost a half hour to set up the food in the cabinets and fridge, and then I go about organizing the kitchen in a way that better suits my routine.

My mother always kept the glasses over the stove, a habit that deterred Sammy and I from climbing the counters to get at them. I however, prefer to keep them next to the fridge and I begin the process of transferring items from each cabinet. There are a few coffee mugs I remember from my childhood that Lisa wanted to pack up, but I felt no need to do so. Renters would need coffee mugs, and those were not so special that it would have mattered if they were to break. 

Seeing them now, though, I find relief fill my senses that they look unharmed. It was a set of four, a different word engraved into each one. They were stark white, while the words were black and written in a kind of typewriter font. My mother had picked them up at a garage sale, claiming the one that said , _Create_ , for herself. My father rarely went out of his way to choose one over the other, but I remember seeing _Relax_ in his hands more times than any other. I was always partial to _Wake Up_ , and felt a vague sense of guilt that _Revive_ wasn’t used more often. 

I move the cups to the cabinet next to the fridge, along with the wine glasses I’ll never use and the rocks glasses that causes my heart to skip a beat. I place those high on the top shelf and push them back towards the wall so that I won’t see them when I open the cabinet. Until I get a handle on whatever it is I plan to do, it would be better for me not to have something so seductive staring me in the face all the time.

Once I’m finished making the kitchen the way I want it, my stomach begins to protest again, and I remember how hungry I am. I make a simple turkey sandwich and eat it on the back porch. The dune cuts off some of my view of the beach, but I can see the waves clearly as they crash into the sand. 

There is a group of seagulls looking for scraps along the water’s edge, as well as a few people walking or running along the beach. It reminds me that I want to start up a jogging routine as well, something physical to take my mind off of the things that threaten to destroy me. It is cold enough to be uncomfortable in just my sweater and jeans, and I finish eating quickly. I contemplate unpacking a few things, but instead end up going inside to grab a blanket and pulling it around myself. 

I walk the short distance from my back porch to the sand dune that separates my property from the public beach. There are weeds and various pieces of debris from the last storm scattered along the sand, and I find a clear spot to sit in right at the base of the dune so I can lean against it.

The waves are louder than the wind that blows against my ears, but the wind bites painfully at my skin. I pull the blanket tighter around myself and settle into the comfortable rhythm of the tide. 

I don't know how long I sit there, just staring out into the ocean, the waves nearly hypnotizing me into forgetting all of my troubles. My mind goes blank, and I am released of all thoughts of Lisa and the drink my body is politely asking me for. 

My eyes begin to grow lazy, and they leave the water to travel over the sand once more. Movement catches my attention and I turn my head to see a woman a few hundred yards away running towards my direction. She is dressed warmly, and keeping a steady pace. It makes me feel guilty for having not worked out yet, but my shame quickly dissipates as my eyes wander past the woman and to a man walking much slower behind her. 

He is dressed in jeans and a dark long sleeve shirt, the wind lifting it from his arms in a way that tells me it is much too light to be comfortable in this weather. I can make out a black beanie on his head, and the familiar glow of a cigarette in his hand. 

He walks slowly and aimlessly through the surf. The fact that the man is walking in the surely freezing water should surprise me, but I find his appearance familiar some how. As he gets closer, I notice his feet are bare and kicking up sand and water as he walks. His head is turned down to his feet and sometimes out to the water, so I can’t get a clear view of his face, but there is something about him that makes me feel like I should know who he is, or that perhaps I already do.

It’s a feeling that makes me oddly uncomfortable though, and I find myself standing suddenly. I turn back to the house once he is close enough for me to make out the dark lines of sea water that clings the man’s jeans to his ankles. 

But then I can smell smoke in the next gust of wind, and my head swivels back on instinct. It is only an instant, but it’s just in time to catch a glimpse of stubble lined cheeks.


	6. Sinister Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling generous this evening. Enjoy meeting Cas and Charlie :)
> 
> Sinister Kid- The Black Keys

I leave for work earlier than I need to the next morning, and I find myself standing in front of a coffee shop just down the street from the garage at 7:30am. I have time to grab some coffee and check out the place, so I walk inside with only a slight amount of unease. 

I’ve never enjoyed walking into a place I’ve never been before. The anxiety of knowing whether the door opens with a push or pull, if there are unwritten rules about where to sit and how to talk, it makes my skin crawl in discomfort. It’s a necessity, of course, otherwise I’d never go anywhere, but it's a process I detest. The fact that I also severely dislike chains, where I would undoubtedly find the same set up everywhere, doesn't help. I prefer the atmosphere of small and locally run establishments, but also like the familiarity of knowing what I’m walking into. 

The first thing I think when I walk into this place is, _brown_. The walls are lined with wood panels, and the floor is a dark cedar color that makes me feel instantly warm. There is art on the walls with little price tags in the corner that makes me think they are from local artists. Plush couches and broken in recliners are scattered throughout the coffee shop, with random book shelves breaking up different seating areas. It isn't an overly large space, and I would dare to call it intimate if I felt more familiar with it. 

I hesitantly step up to the counter, which is set towards the middle of the shop and off to the left. There is a petite woman with fiery red hair hanging over the counter, staring down at two blank note cards. She is thumping the end of her pen against the counter and huffing out signs of frustration as I look above her, hoping to find a simple, no fuss menu. 

I am pleasantly surprised to see a blackboard behind her, no more than ten items written in various colors of chalk. There are a few things I don't recognize, but most of the things listed are fairly typical coffee shop fare.

The girl looks up to me and her eyes brighten considerably. “Hey! Maybe you can help me out today!”

I am so taken back by her cheer I don't have time to process her question. “Huh?”

“Today’s tip jars,” She shakes her head and looks back down to the blank note cards. “I can't come up with something today. I usually think of it the night before, but last night I got caught up in the game and then passed out at Dorothy’s and didn't get here until like ten minutes ago.” She speaks so quickly I’m not sure I catch every word, and she keeps going before I can respond. “The coffee isn’t even ready yet, so it’ll be a minute before I can get you some, sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” I say slowly, trying to catch up to the conversation. I look back down to the counter to the blank note cards and then see the two glass jars that are placed at the edge of the counter in front of me. “What did you say about your tip jars?”

“Oh.” The woman said. “Have you not been in here before? I don’t recognize you, but I’m not always here so...” She trails off and studies my face more closely.

“No, I haven't.” I answer back simply. “New in town.”

“Oh fun!” She has a bright smile on her face, and I can't help but return it. “Fresh meat!” I chuckle at that and she points to the jars. “Every day we put out two tip jars, each one taking a different side to a popular debate. You know, like, chocolate verses vanilla, Beach verses Pool, _Twilight_ verses _Buffy_. Then people make their vote with their tip.”

“Did Twilight get any votes?” 

“Some bleeding heart put a nickel in there at the end of the day.” She rolls her eyes and it broadens my smile. “You got any ideas?”

“Uh... Have you done _Star Wars_ verses _Star Trek_ yet?”

Her eyes go big and her smile is growing eerily wider and I wonder if maybe I should take a step back. “Oh my God, you’re a freakin’ genius! I can’t believe I hadn't thought of that one yet!” She sets to work writing the two sides on the note cards and then placing them in their holders over the jars. “Awesome.” She shakes her head in appreciation and then her eyes are back on me. “So, you here for caffeine too, or did you just come in to save the day?”

Another laugh escapes me, and I nod. “Yeah, um just a black coffee will do me fine.”

“Can’t convince you to let me doctor it up for ya? As a thank you?”

I eye her suspiciously for a second before my mouth shrugs for me and I raise my hands. “Sure, why not?”

“Yes!” She turns around quickly to her espresso machine and then turns just her head back to look at me again. “I’m Charlie by the way.”

“Morning Charlie, I’m Dean.” I am expecting the usual ‘new in town’ questioning to follow next, but she just begins making my drink. 

“Nice to meet you Dean.” She throws the words over her shoulder. “I don’t know what I would have done without you this morning.”

“Happy to help.” I watch as she pours a few different things into a disposable cup, and I begin to feel anxious about what it is Charlie is concocting. “That’s not some sugary chino’ crap is it? Cuz I’d rather just have hot water if that's the case.”

“No, no. You don't seem like the sugar bomb type.” Charlie says back, placing a top on the drink and turning around to hand it to me. “Just trust me, kay?”

I give her a doubtful look, but take the cup anyway and warily bring it to my lips.

The first sip is an assault of heat on my taste buds, but soon the flavor of her masterpiece begins to melt into my tongue. It only takes a moment to realize the heat isn't all from temperature, as the drink's spicy aftertaste mingles easily with the coffee. There is also just a hint of something sweet to take the edge off the bitterness of the dark roast.

There is sounds of appreciation exiting my mouth around the coffee cup lid and Charlie squeals in delight. “Yes! I knew I could peg you!”

“Charlie- this is, _by far_ , the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.” I say it honestly, because it is absolutely the truth. Of course, I can't remember the last time I drank anything that didn't come directly from a coffee pot, but her encouraged grin keeps me from saying so.

“Why thank you kind sir.” She does a little bow that makes Charlie look adorable, and I have the sudden urge to keep her close and protect her from the cruel, harsh world. I think somewhat bitterly that Lisa would have really liked her. Probably would have tried to fix Charlie up with just about everyone she knew too. Lisa was always trying to stick people together, like it was her mission in life. 

Charlie's voice cuts through my incoming emotional assault. “It's the darkest roast we got, plus honey and a few dashes of cayenne.”

“Honey? In coffee?” I take another sip and swallow down my incredulity. 

“Hey, you love it don’t you?” 

“That I do.” I smile kindly and offer her my credit card.

“No way.” Charlie said with her arms going across her chest. “You saved my ass, that one's on me today.”

I want to argue, but after the groceries yesterday I can't afford not to take her up on her offer. I do pull a few dollar bills from my wallet though, and stick them in the _Star Wars_ jar.

“Man, I knew I liked you for a reason.” Charlie beamed. “Nice choice Dean.”

“Thanks.” I give her a genuine smile, and hope it reaches my eyes. “I got to get to work. Thanks for the coffee Charlie.”

“No problem. Will I see you again soon?”

Normally when someone says those words to me, I naturally assume there is some ulterior motive at work, but with Charlie there is just something about her that makes me feel positive she isn't hitting on me. “Yeah, you can pretty much count on it.”

“Awesome!” She smiles again and then is turning back towards the back counter, taking a rag and wiping it down. “See ya!”

“Later.” 

As I make my way back to the exit, I notice a cork board with advertisements for various services and events. One in particular grabs my attention and I stare long and hard at it before heading back towards the counter.

Charlie turns back, looking startled for a second before smiling easily up at me. “Back so soon?”

“Uh-yeah.” I clear my throat to stall because I don’t really know what is possessing me to ask this question, but I’m standing here now and don’t see any way out of it. “I saw the flyer for the meetings you hold here Sunday nights.”

“Oh yeah, are you in the program?” Charlie asks casually, as if it wasn’t something that could unravel my carefully laid plan to keep my past hidden in one of the boxes still hugging the living room wall of the beach house.

“Yes.” The word is out before I can stop myself and I cough through the sudden rush of blood to my cheeks. 

“Cool, me too.” Charlie smiles kindly and I relax a little. “Yeah, the meetings are every Sunday at nine. I know its kind of late, but I don't want to have to close up shop to have them and I kind of hate going to church.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” I nod slightly as I work through my panic. “Well, uh- maybe I’ll see you at the next one then.”

“That would be very cool Dean.” Charlie says, her voice calm and soothing.

“Great.” I start backing away and bump into a display of coffee grinds, and I appreciate the hand that hides Charlie’s laughter. “I’ll- uh, see you.”

“Kay, Later.” She said again, this time waving me off and smiling widely.

This time I make it through the door and rejoice in the freezing air that cuts into my cheeks. Whatever it was that made me lay my shit out like that, is making me feel like an idiot now and I wish desperately to be able to take the last two minutes of my life back.

It’s not that I’m ashamed to be in AA, it’s more that I was kind of planning on not going through that crap anymore. One way or another, I thought I saw my last meeting when I went with Bobby back in Boston. If I decide to take that drink I've been thinking about and realize what a stupid idea it was, then maybe I’ll find myself back in sitting around a circle with other alcoholics. But until then, I don’t really see the need to go. 

Although, there is a small voice in my head that sounds an awful lot like my wife’s, that tells me the fact that I’m considering even taking a drink at all should tell me I need to go to a meeting. 

I sigh heavily and take another sip of my _un-freaking-believable_ coffee as I begin my one block trek to the auto shop.

 

*

Overall, I’m pretty sure landing the job at the shop was a gift from whatever heaven still willing to cater to me. Turns out, Benny is a pretty stand up guy, and didn't care too much for showing more than absolutely necessary. By the end of the day I knew where to eat my lunch, which brands we dealt with, and where to take my afternoon shit. Besides that, he figured out all I needed was a car in the bay and I’d be set. Their computer system is pretty similar to the one Bobby uses so I don't think it’ll take me all that long to have it down either. My first day runs very smoothly and I'm clocking out by six.

I decide to make the steak I picked up at the grocery store for dinner tonight and toss it on the small charcoal grill I had placed in the back yard when I started renting the place out. I also roast some potatoes in the oven that are under cooked when I take them out, but I eat them anyway. I take my meal outside and eat it while watching the tide roll in. 

It’s only seven thirty by the time I’m finished and I decide to make the walk to _Loki’s Palace_ so I have something more than my own thoughts to listen to for the rest of the night. I’m tempted to drive there instead of walk because of how much the temperature had dropped throughout the day, but I decide to just add an extra layer under my sweater and commit to the journey. 

I do walk quickly though, and make it to the bar much faster than I had the previous night. 

The warm heat of the bar surrounds me as I step through the door and I find a certain amount of comfort at seeing Gabe behind the bar.

He spots me too, and his casual smirk widens into a full on grin. “Dean-o! Welcome back!”

He waves me forward and I’m about to offer him a small smile of my own before I notice the man sitting at the bar to the left of Gabe. His hair is an unkempt mess of dark tresses and he is leaning back in his angled bar stool, his legs propped up on the chairs next to him and his hand resting on the drink in front of him. His five o’clock shadow looks like it has seen more of this day than it would have liked, and his lips are curled into a half smirk that I find difficult to look away from.

“Didn’t scare you off then?” Gabe continues as I finally take my eyes off the man and bring them back to Gabriel, my feet taking me to the bar. I pick a seat a few down from the ones the man is casually resting his feet on and give Gabe a strained smile.

“Nah. You’re not so bad.”

“Ah,” Gabe clutched his heart in mock adoration. “You certainly know the way to a man’s heart.”

“Yeah, I’m good like that.” I say back with a level of confidence I didn't expect myself capable of, considering how aware I am of the man sitting a few chairs down from me. 

“Dinner?” Gabe asks, turning to grab a menu.

“No, just a club soda with lime.”

Gabe nods and begins to make my drink, and my attention is drawn to the snicker I hear coming from the man I am very carefully avoiding to look at. Out of the corner of my eye though, I can see that he is staring at me, and it makes me feel bold enough to bring my eyes to his in a slow roll that makes the man grunt out another laugh.

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” The words are out of my mouth before I can think them through, but my shock is easily covered by relief when the man smiles back at me.

“No food, club soda.” The man shrugs as I take in the course gravel of his voice. It reminds me of an engine of a classic car purring to life and I feel myself tense under its weight. 

“So tell me,” He leans forward off the back of his bar stool and somehow lowers his voice even more. “Why does a recovered alcoholic widower choose to spend his free time surrounded by alcohol?”


	7. Broadripple is Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broadripple is Burning- Margot and the Nuclear So & Sos
> 
>  
> 
> I am going on vacation tomorrow and the internet service can be pretty spotty there. I wanted to give you guys a better taste of Cas though, so I'm posting two more chapters today to hold you over until after next week. 
> 
> Although if there is a rainy day or two at the beach, you may get another! Once I get started it's so hard to stop! ;)

My mouth goes dry and I’m sure my eyes grow two or three sizes before I can control them. Thoughts begin to fly across my mind as I try to figure out how this man knows these things about me. The recovered alcoholic part I can understand, ordering a club soda at a bar is a pretty big tell. But knowing my wife is dead? How the hell did he pull that?

“Back off Cassie, Dean is new in town. We should try and ease him in to your special brand of company.” Gabriel says kindly, placing my drink in front of me and glaring at the man he called Cassie.

The name doesn’t suit him at all, his rugged appearance and the hard lines of his face demanding something stronger than a name I associate with girls in pigtails.

Gabe’s comment earns him another snicker from the man, and his eyes are on the bartender then. “Your insistence on that nickname is getting rather tiresome Gabriel.” 

My eyebrows raise at that and turn back to Gabe. “Gabriel?”

The bartender snorts and shrugs his shoulders. “What did you think Gabe was short for, Gabrina?”

“Maybe.” I answer back smoothly and then turn my head to face the mystery that is the man sitting down the bar. “Cassie, is it?”

I receive a glare for that, and I almost expect the man not to reply but then his lips are moving and I find myself tensing in anticipation. “Castiel.” He pulls his drink to his mouth and sips quickly, licking the remnants off his lips as he replaces his glass back on the bar. The amber liquid draws my attention from his lips for an instant, but I shut my eyes quickly and turn back towards my own.

“Are you aware that the neon sign on your forehead is blinking?” Castiel says in a gruff voice that makes his statement sound more like an irritated accusation, than a joke. 

The question throws me off for a second, but then I remember his earlier comment and sigh in annoyance. “Am I that easy to read?”

“Yes.” There is no hesitation in his reply. “Were you trying to be discreet?”

“Kind of.” I answer honestly, taking another sip of my drink.

“Pity.” Castiel says quietly behind the rim of his glass. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and I find myself mimicking the action, licking my lips to coat them in lime. 

“Come now boys,” Gabe interrupts. “Let’s play nice.”

“Just making conversation Gabriel.” His tone is casual, but I can hear tension under his words.

“Sure you are.” The bartender responds back quickly, a wide grin on his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “How’d your first day go Dean?”

I feel somewhat exposed under the question, like Gabe is giving Castiel more ammunition to analyze me with. I’m still reeling from the fact that he was able to pull my file so easily, so I don't have enough faculties to come up with anything better than the truth. “Fine. Pretty good actually.”

“Yeah? Rufus can be a ripe asshole when he wants to.” Gabe says back. There is a snicker from beside me, but I resist the urge to look.

“How do you know him?” I ask, mostly just to keep myself distracted from what fees like an industrial sized magnet pulling my attention down the bar.

“I take my Jeep there, best prices in town.” Gabe begins washing glasses in the sink behind the bar and my eyes watch attentively. “But his bedside manner could use some work.”

“Oh, well, he seemed alright to me. Said I was doing him a favor.”

Gabe nodded and shrugged a little. “Good for you then.” He turned his attention to Castiel whose hand is outstretched slightly, pushing his empty glass away from himself. “You going to use your big boy words or just pantomime what you want?”

“Eat a dick Gabriel.” Castiel says in a sweet tone that doesn't match his words and it forces me to look at him. He is batting his eyelashes at the bartender, which makes it impossible not to notice how incredibly long they are. They fall against his cheeks in a dark wide fan that’s almost mesmerizing. There are lines around his eyes and mouth as he pulls his lips up in a wide grin, and there is a glint in his eyes that makes me feel a sort of excitement I haven't felt since- well, I don't know how long.

“Gladly.” Gabriel answers back quickly, picking up Castiel’s glass and pouring whiskey into it. “Any particular dick you have in mind?”

That pulls a laugh from me and I turn my attention to Gabe, who is eyeing me cautiously. It occurs to me he is waiting for my reaction to his apparent lack of heterosexuality, so I smile back at him easily, teeth and all. “I’m off the market buddy, maybe some other time.”

There is a flicker of surprise on Gabe’s face, but then he is laughing and nodding dramatically. “I may take you up on that one, Dean-o.”

I take, what I hope is a subtle glance in Castiel’s direction, and find that he is pretty openly staring at me again. I try to ignore it, but it’s like the guy is burning holes into the side of my head and very quickly I am turning to face him with a scowl on my face. “What?”

“How long?” He says back, not at all affected by my harsh tone.

I blink a few times, trying to figure out what the hell he is talking about on my own, before finally breaking down and asking him.

He quirks his left eyebrow up, and the motion does something to my dick instantly, but guilt pulls it back down just as quickly. “How long will you be off the market?”

I know my mouth is hanging open, but I can’t bring myself to move the muscles in my jaw to close it. “Uh...” I feel like an idiot for not saying something smooth or cool, but I honestly don't know how to respond to the question. 

The truth is, the very idea of pursuing anyone at the moment kind of turns my stomach. I had been preparing for Lisa’s death for over a year, but she only died a little over three months ago. I still think of her more than anything else, I still wish it was she who was sitting next to me at this bar, I still cry in my sleep. I don’t think I’m ready to move on with someone else. Even if I was though, three months doesn't seem like enough time to be respectful to Lisa. It may be stupid, but part of me feels like moving on quickly would be like I didn't love Lisa enough to mourn her longer. 

None of these things help me come up with something to say, though, to the expectant asshole who has thrown the question at me. 

Thankfully, Gabe comes to my rescue.

“God, could you be anymore of a douchebag?” He is half-smiling, and shaking his head at Castiel. “Tell me, do you make it a point to make people uncomfortable, or is it just a happy accident?”

“A little of both I think.” Castiel answers back, his eyes still on mine and not letting me go. “If Dean doesn’t want to answer, he doesn’t have to.”

Well, I guess that means I’m going to have to come up with something to say. 

Shit.

“For the foreseeable future.” I say it with a hint of irritation that I hope hides the apprehension in my voice. “What’s it to you?”

Castiel places his hands behind his head and smirks. “Just planning out the rest of my week.”

My shoulders shake with amusement despite the forwardness of the comment, and the smile I give him is softer than I intend it to be. “It’ll be a helluva lot longer than a week buddy, especially for you.”

He returns my smile, but it’s more predatory than anything else. 

“We’ll see.” 

 

*

I spend Saturday helping the older lady next door lay out mulch in her garden. I was preparing to go for a run, but I saw her struggling with the bags and silently thanked the world for a reason to skip the run. 

Being alone with my thoughts is just about the last thing I wanted to do today. 

Last night had been a very specific kind of hell. Castiel didn’t say much more after making me feel like his prey, but he didn’t have to speak to turn my entire world upside down. 

If I’m being completely honest with myself, hell yes I’m attracted to that man. I accepted who I am around the time I entered AA, and I find no shame in who I am attracted to. My father, of course, wouldn’t agree with my lack of shame, but that story goes so much deeper than just me liking dudes. I may have taken up drinking as an escape from my own (at the time) repressed sexuality, but I only kept it up because of my father’s reaction to the truth. My mom was more open, albeit confused, but my father straight up told me it was disgusting and I needed help. 

I don’t carry those words with me anymore. I’ve let them go and no longer let them affect me. My peace came too late though, the damage had already been done and my little brother Sam paid the price. It’s a fact that haunts me, more so now that I’m alone and don’t have Lisa to keep me strong. His death pushes at the edges of my sobriety, far more aggressively than it did when I had her. 

And now I had Castiel seeping into my thoughts as well. It doesn't help that he is ridiculously good-looking, or that the way he looks at me makes me feel like I’m about to be swallowed whole, which I somehow find oddly comforting.

Every time I think of Castiel for more than a few seconds, though, grief and guilt pushes down any arousal that threatens to rise. It’s too soon, and I’m just not ready for this. Besides, I think it would give him a certain level of satisfaction to get in my pants, and there is something in me that doesn't want to give it to him. It’s fairly obvious Castiel is used to getting what he wants in that regard, and I feel pretty damn powerful not being another notch on his bed post. 

I generally don’t like playing games, and typically I’m a pretty straight forward guy when it comes to sex and relationships. With him though, I feel like it’s impossible to approach this the way I would have with anyone else. Usually I would just tell him, straight up, that my wife just died and I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone, but something in me refused to get those words out last night. 

Helping my elderly neighbor Grace, distracts me enough to get me through most of Saturday. I only think of Castiel once, and I quickly replace his face with Lisa’s. It was an odd practice, but I feel like I owe it to her to only be imagining her face right now. The moment her image was pasted in my mind though, my heart hurt more than it had all day. 

By the time I make it to bed, I am actively avoiding thinking about Castiel. No matter what I do though, he keeps creeping into my thoughts like the snake in The Garden, tempting me into something I know I’m not ready for. I play with the idea of letting my resolve to not think of him go, and experiment with fantasizing about him, but guilt prevents me from getting much farther than picturing his face. 

It feels wrong, like I’m betraying Lisa. 

*

I don’t know what possesses me to go through with it, but I find myself at the coffee shop door at 8:55pm Sunday night. The walk over was brutal, but I needed the time to chicken out if I wanted to. 

I take a deep breath and close my hand over the handle, pulling the door open and letting the warmth of the shop coax me inside. I notice right away that the seating has changed slightly, and that there are more chairs and couches towards the back. They are arranged in a makeshift circle, which I want to roll my eyes at, but suppress.

“You made it!” A familiar eager voice rings in my ears and I smile at the young red-headed woman bouncing towards me. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you, you seemed a little skiddish before.”

I chuckle hesitantly and nod. “Yeah, well I guess that’s an accurate description.”

“No worries, you don’t have to talk or anything today.” She places her hand on my arm and leads me to the group who has begun to sit down.

“Alright. Sounds good.” I take a seat on a worn red couch that is far more comfortable than it looks. Beside me is an older man with a belly like Santa Claus, and next to him is a younger guy, no more than eighteen. On my other side is a woman in her thirties, dressed in a pants suit and looking entirely out of place in the coffee shop. Charlie takes the seat opposite me, and begins speaking to a woman with bright blue hair. They speak softly, and Charlie’s hand goes up to tuck the girl’s hair behind her ears. It’s incredibly intimate and I’m suddenly left questioning if there are any straight people in this town. 

Charlie turns back towards the group and clears her throat to begin the meeting. It’s fairly normal, the typical introductions and mantras being spouted. I share my name and where I’m from, but nothing else. The rest of the group shares a little more, including Charlie who tells us it’s her birthday tomorrow and that one year on her birthday when she was drunk and high, she and her foster brother vandalized a cosmetic lab where animal testing took place. She recounts the tail with both pride and shame. 

By the time the meeting is finished, I know more about the old man sitting next to me than I do my own father, but instead of sadness I feel encouraged.

“So, what’d you think?” Charlie approaches me as people spread the chairs and couches back out to their original placements.

“I liked it.” I shrug and keep my face soft. “Less preachy than what I’m used to, so that's good.”

“Nice. Kinda what we’re going for here.” Charlie smiles at me then looks over my shoulder. Her smile falters for a second as she looks on, but then she is turning back to me and her eyes are bright once more. “We still do the drinks and snacks after, that was always the best part of these things anyway.”

“Agreed.” I nod and she pats my shoulder to indicate I should help myself to the donuts laid out on the counter beside us. Charlie walks around me and my head follows her path. 

My stomach jumps into my throat as I see who is waiting for her at the front of the shop. 

Half laying, half sitting, on a couch next to the front door is Castiel. 

He is watching Charlie walk towards him and he has an affectionate smile on his lips. She leans down to kiss his forehead, and something in me stirs, but then she is punching his shoulder and his laughter echoes around the shop. 

Its a booming sort of laughter that reaches every vessel of my heart and I cringe because this is definitely not how I want to be feeling right now, but it seems my body has plans of its own.


	8. Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monster- Mumford & Sons

I can’t hear what Charlie and Castiel are talking about, but suddenly his eyes are on me instead of Charlie and he winks. He fucking winks at me, and I want to jump out of the nearest window, but I roll my eyes instead because its the only thing my body is capable of. 

I turn back towards the donuts and notice the blue haired chick is trying to get my attention, so I attempt to give it to her and block all noises from the front of the shop out of my mind. The girl is soft spoken, and I remember her name is Gilda. I am having trouble hearing her over my own screaming inner monologue, but I try to hone in on her, and only her as she talks about her castle, _castle???_ , and the game she and Charlie play on the weekends.

Due to my extreme concentration, I don’t hear the footsteps behind me. 

I don’t have time for the mini-panic attack that threatens my cool exterior, though, because Charlie is by my side in the next moment, joining the conversation.

Slightly behind her, and closer to me, is Castiel. I’m surprised to find him only slightly shorter than myself, and without the bar stools in the way, I can tell he is lean but muscular under his clothes. He is wearing a green jacket that looks like it could have come from an Army surplus store, over a grey Henley. His jeans are faded and ripped in multiple places, and they sit very low on his waist. He is staring down at the donut selection and licking his lips and it reminds me that there is something other than his lips to look at, and I turn back towards the donuts as well. 

There is one more jelly filled donut and I reach out to take it, but Castiel’s hand is faster and snakes it past me. 

“My apologies,” There’s a twitch on his lips when I look back at him and I hope my glare shows how unamused I am. 

Then my breath gets caught in a strangled choke because his tongue is flicking out to lick the powder off the donut in a quick swipe, claiming it for himself. “Did you want this Dean?”

 

His lips still hold the too innocent looking smirk when I finally come to my senses enough to realize he had asked me a question. A stupid, douchey question, but a question nonetheless. I’m about to tell him where he can stick that donut when he is suddenly extending the hand that still holds the pastry, and offering it to me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

 

I know exactly what possesses me to take the donut out of his hand. 

I want to do precisely the opposite of whatever he thinks I am going to do. I want to wipe that cocky little smirk off his face and show him I’m not whoever it is he has pegged me to be. I want to prove to him, and maybe myself too, that he doesn't affect me the way he thinks he does.

I take the donut with a cocky smile of my own, and take a bite. I can feel the powder coating my lips and probably some of my chin too, but I don't care. I smile through the donut, enjoying every ounce of surprise that is radiating off of Castiel’s face. 

“So I take it you two have met?” Charlie asks suspiciously, both her and Gilda eyeing us with intrigued smiles. 

‘Not officially.” Castiel says back, eyes still a little wider than normal. His pupils are overtaking, what I now notice to be, the most vibrantly blue irises I’ve ever seen. I think that maybe that’s what diamonds would look like, if they were covered in the crystal blue waters of the deepest ocean. There is something about them that draws me in, unrelenting in their pull on my attention. 

It occurs to me too late that I’ve been writing poetry about this guys eyes, while he is still talking about how we know each other. 

“-did my best to show him a proper welcome.” He is looking at me with a knowing smirk and I roll my eyes again.

I may not know what he said before that, but I’m confident it was full of just as much bullshit.

“Is that what that was?” I ask with a cock of my brow, challenging him.

“More or less.” He says back, a subtle shrug of his shoulders indicating he had no intention of elaborating. 

I decide to bite the bullet though, and extend my hand. “Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you Castiel...” I trail off and wait for my hand to be filled with his. 

He eyes me for a moment, and then looks down at my hand with an almost irritated look on his face. Charlie nudges him with her elbow though, and then Castiel is rolling his eyes and slipping his hand into mine. “Novak.”

It takes me all the strength I posses not to hold his hand longer than the two seconds necessary, to shake it. There is a sort of lightening strike when our hands meet though, that sends jolts of energy through my entire body. I drop his hand almost immediately after the shake and Castiel is wearing the smirk I am quickly learning to despise. It makes me want to scream because I think maybe he knows why I let go of his hand so fast.

“Cas here-” Charlie starts but Castiel interrupts her.

“Was just leaving.” He says it casually, as if he wasn’t purposely cutting her off. Castiel gives me another long look that makes me feel like each and every one of my freckles is being categorically analyzed, and I clear my throat awkwardly when I break his gaze. It’s frustrating, this _thing_ he does to me, and I want nothing to do with it for the time being.

He turns to place a kiss on Charlie’s temple. 

“I’ll call you later!” She says to the back of his head as Castiel makes his exit. He waves her off without looking back. 

Charlie turns back to me and gives me an apologetic smile. “Sorry about him.” She shrugs as if to tell me there is nothing she can do about it. “Castiel can be a bit abrasive until you get to know him.”

“Abrasive.” I repeat. “That's one way to describe him.”

“Are there more appropriate adjectives?” She presses, a coy look in her eye.

So far, there are quite a few adjectives I would attribute to Castiel. Intense, sexy as hell, irritatingly perceptive, confident to a fault...

“Asshole.” I respond, because its much easier to get that word out than any of the others.

“That's a noun.” Gilda says quietly, a knowing shine to her eyes.

*

I decide to end my evening on the beach. 

Despite the cold weather and cutting wind, I find the sound of the waves and the give of the sand beneath me, calming. I have several layers on but I still bring the blanket to wrap around myself. 

The moon is already high in the sky, and its light reflects off of the rippling water. I can make out the other side of the bay better at night, the street lamps illuminate the curve of the land, outlining it perfectly. It serves as a concrete reminder of the world outside of myself, and that it continues without my permission. Not that I am so egocentric to believe life needs my approval, or that my life could matter to anyone other than the few people I have encountered over the course of it. 

But still, its easy to forget these things when I’m constantly living a life revolving around myself. It’s difficult to remember there is more than my pain in this world, when its one of the only things that remind me I’m still alive. 

It was the _only_ thing, until a few days ago.

Meeting that douche-hole Castiel has definitely brought me closer to feeling _something_ other than grief. I can’t quite figure out what it is I feel when I’m around him, but whatever it is, its unlike anything I’ve felt before. It’s like my skin is crawling and flaming at the same time. My heart starts pounding in my chest and my mouth goes drier than one of those pretentious red wines that I’ll never understand why people pretend to enjoy. 

But the strange thing is, he also makes me feel bolder. I feel like his confidence flows through the air, and empowers me just as much as it unnerves me. My words are more clever, but less thought out when I’m around him. He pulls something from me that I haven’t felt in years, if ever. I don’t have a word for it, the closest thing would probably be _passion_.

I want to think about that some more, but my guilt prevents me from getting too far. Thinking of my relationship with Lisa as anything short of perfect seems incredibly disrespectful, and I don't want to go there. But if I’m being completely honest with myself, passion is not a word I would use to describe our relationship. That's not to say that we didn’t have hot sex, because we certainly knew how to fuck each other’s brains out, but it’s becoming more obvious that passion doesn't just exist during sex.

In only the few moments I’ve spent with Castiel, I’ve felt more challenged, more _alive_ , than I ever have before. It’s incredibly frightening when I realize this, and I’m close to pushing it away and calling my feelings ridiculous, but then there is movement on the beach just a few yards away, and my incoming emotional panic attack is put on hold. 

Its hard to be sure in the darkness, but if my pulse is any kind of meter, the man who was just monopolizing my thought is walking towards me. 

He is looking down at his own feet and is dressed differently that he was at the coffee shop. His legs are clad in a pair of thin black sleep pants and his chest is covered in a zip-up hooded sweatshirt. As he gets closer, and my hope that the man is anyone other than Castiel Novak (including a mugger or serial killer) is dashed, I notice the bareness of his collarbone, and thin curls of chest hair poking out above the zipper of this sweatshirt where it isn't pulled up. 

He is only a few yards away from me now, but his eyes still haven't looked up. I have a fleeting thought that maybe he doesn't see me sitting here, but his path is practically a beeline to my place in the sand, and there is no doubting his destination. 

I begin to panic and wonder if there is a chance that I could escape. It seems like an eternity ago now, but it was only moments before that I was beginning to dissect my feelings for this man, or at least the way I feel when I’m around him. With those thoughts so fresh in my mind, his approach threatens the walls I was just in the process of building up.

Castiel’s pace slows as he reaches me, and I look up to him as he stands above me. There is a cigarette in his hand, and the smell is a reminder of how obnoxious he can be. I steel myself to whatever snarky comment is about to come out of his mouth, but nothing comes. Instead, Castiel finally meets my gaze and just looks down at me for a long moment, his blue eyes catching the moonlight in a way that makes them look like they are glowing. It’s unnerving at first, but it isn't longer than a second before I find it easy to settle into the stare, and hold the silence. 

After a long beat of whatever it is we were doing, Castiel takes another step forward and sits down beside me. It occurs to me that I must look rather silly with the blanket wrapped around me like this, but I get no sign from the man beside me that I am about to get shit for it. 

I keep waiting for him to say something, but nothing ever comes. His shoulder is close enough to feel it’s heat through my blanket, which means his temperature must rival that of the sun’s. 

The time for greetings passes without any words spoken, and I contemplate breaking the silence to say something- _anything_ \- but I let the moment breathe instead. I don’t know what I would say if I really thought about it anyway, and I’m afraid to open my mouth for fear of what might come tumbling out. Castiel doesn't seem to feel the need to speak either, and soon we are both just looking out to the ocean, our sides pressed into one another slightly. 

I’m not sure how long we sit there in silence, but I am positive it is the most encaptured I’ve ever felt, without a single word being spoken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I am loving writing this version of Cas...I have such fun plans for him and Dean! ;)


	9. We're Going to be Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get to know Charlie a little better shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're Going to be Friends- The White Stripes

“If it weren’t for Rufus, I wouldn’t know you were even alive boy.” Bobby is trying to sound angry, but I know it’s all talk.

“Pipe down old man, I’m fine.” I placate, doing my best to sound well-adjusted and amused. “I was going to call a few days ago, but I just got busy.”

“Busy? What are you doing down there? You staying out of trouble?”

“I’m not drinking Bobby.” My voice huffs slightly as I speak. Bobby caught me on my walk to the coffee shop before work, and I didn’t think I could dodge his calls another day. “I even went to a meeting last night.”

“Yeah?” Bobby sounds genuinely surprised and I’m not sure how I feel about that. “That’s... that’s good Dean. Glad to hear it.”

“Yep.” I can see the coffee shop just a few hundred yards ahead and it gives me a reason to end the call. It’s not that I don't appreciate Bobby’s worry for me, I just don’t want to have to listen to it, knowing there is a very sound reason for his concern. I like to pretend he is just an overprotective father figure and that I’m not actually on the brink of something I can’t come back from. 

“Listen, I’m about to grab some coffee. I’ll call Ellen tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, alright. Take care of yourself boy.”

“Will do.” 

I hang up with a harsher press to the screen than necessary and stuff my phone in my jacket pocket, right as I reach the door to the coffee shop.

I find myself smiling as I open the door, and assume it’s because I’m looking forward to the redheaded ray of sunshine waiting for me on the other side. I’m not disappointed as my eyes find the counter and see Charlie preparing another customer’s drink. She is yapping away about something I can’t even begin to understand, but it still widens my smile as I take my place in line.

Charlie spots me as she hands the drink to the waiting customer and she grins enthusiastically. “Dean!” 

“Hey Charlie.” 

“So is this going to be a regular thing, then?” She questions, her head tilted slightly. “Stopping in for coffee before work?”

“You complaining?” I ask, my eyebrows raising comically.

“Not in the slightest.” She pulls a cup from the stack and tips it towards me. “You want your special?”

“ _God_ yes.” It sounds like I’m begging, and I probably am, because, _holy shit_ , that coffee has been on my mind for days.

“Alright, keep it in your pants.” Charlie teases. She begins making my drink and I look down to the tip jars for the day. The jar on the right has a note card that has _Gandalf_ written in neat script, the one on the left says _Dumbledore_.

I know I should recognize the second name, and I almost do, but it’s just not coming to me. “Is it bad that I don’t know who one of these guys is?”

Charlie stops what she is doing and places the coffee cup on the counter slowly. When she looks at me, her eyes are wide and her chest is moving faster than it was a moment ago. “Dean.” She says it's almost like a whisper. “Please tell me you are joking.”

“Uh...no?” I give her an apologetic smile. “I know Gandalf, of course, and I’ve definitely heard of the other one somewhere, I just can’t place it.” I can tell she is doing her best not to have a tantrum, so I try another contrite gesture. “Is it that bad that I don’t know?”

Charlie looks like she is about to say something, but stops herself. Instead, she swallows hard and looks back down at my half made coffee and gets back to it. I can tell she is thinking hard as she places the lid on the top and pushes it towards me. Her eyes are still on the coffee and her lips are pursed.

I hand some cash to her hesitantly, unsure of my line. “Dude, did I just render you speechless?”

“No.” She says quickly, shaking her head. “I’m trying to figure out when we can fit in a Harry Potter marathon.” She pulls out her phone and is scrolling through something before I can interject. “I’ve got my birthday party tonight,” She looks up quickly, “To which you are totally invited by-the-by.” Her eyes go back down to her phone and she is scrolling again. “How about Friday? I don’t have to work Saturday so we could get through them all.”

“What?” I just barely understand what she is saying.

“Dean.” She says it like an expletive and it makes me wince. “We absolutely cannot be the best friends I intend us to be, if you haven’t seen Harry Potter.”

There is a pull at the corner of my lips at her insistence at being my friend and it keeps me from grimacing at my new weekend plans. “How many are there?”

“Seven- well, eight since the last movie was broken into two.” Charlie answers back, a bounce in her shoulders. “You will watch them, and you will love them.”  
I don’t see a way out of it, and if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t really want to get out of it. Spending time with Charlie, even if it’s watching movies I have yet to give a fuck about, sounds pretty awesome. “Yes, Ma'am.”

Her scowl turns into a blinding smile and I chuckle. “It doesn't take much to make you happy does it?” I push the cash towards her and she takes it. 

“Nope.” The register chimes as it opens. “Oh, and I am serious about tonight. You should come.”

It takes me a moment to remember what she is talking about, and then I nod as something about a birthday party comes to mind. “Your birthday, huh?”

“Yep. Gilda and Dorothy are doing this whole theme thing. Should be fun.”

I don’t have any plans for the evening, and it sounds a hell of a lot more fun than sitting around my house or listening to Gabe talk about his dalliances in amateur porn. “Alright, sounds good.”

There is a sudden flip to my stomach as I remember how close Charlie and Castiel seemed to be, and I wonder if he will be at the party too.

The other night on the beach had been unlike anything I had ever experienced before. 

There were multiple points where I felt like I should say something, or I was waiting for something to come out of those chapped, nicotine soaked lips.

But nothing ever did.

We just sat there, staring at the moon and the way the water shinned under it. It was bewildering and exhilarating, and it fucked me up completely. 

Who does that? Who just sits next to someone and says nothing?

It felt like hours, but maybe it was only a few minutes before he was standing and I thought I heard him sigh as he stood, but I couldn't be sure. There was an insane moment where my mouth almost invited him inside, but thankfully, it stayed shut. 

We exchanged a long stare before he turned and walked back in the direction he had come from. It was charged with so much tension, I felt like my throat was closing up from the sheer weight of his attention. It was like I was being crushed by his eyes, and I couldn't do anything but push everything right back to him. 

When he did finally turn away, my shoulders fell considerably, no longer required to hold up whatever walls I had built against Castiel. I was suddenly weightless, but also empty, like I had just lost a piece of myself.

The previous night continued to wash over me as Charlie hands me my change and I stuff a couple dollars into the _Gandalf_ jar. 

Her eyebrows raise and she balks. “You can’t even make an informed decision Dean. Your vote is invalid.”

I put my hand back in the jar and finger the money inside. “So I should just take this back then?” There is a playful smile on my lips and Charlie tries to hide her own.

“No, you jerk!” She slaps my hand away and I pick up my coffee with it. “So will I see you tonight?”

I don’t think because there isn’t anything that would keep me from chasing that feeling of being around Castiel again. “Yeah, where am I going?”

“I’m off Cedar. The little blue house near the Children’s Beach House?” 

“Yeah, I have no idea where that is.” 

She pulls out a pen and writes down her address on a napkin. “Here. Just put it in your phone.” Her eyes brighten for a second and then Charlie is holding her hand out. “Better yet, give me your phone.”

I eye her suspiciously for a second, but comply almost immediately. I sip my coffee as she pulls my phone from me.

Once my phone is in her hands, she is typing and then I hear some sort of medieval music coming from her pocket. “There. You’ve got my number, and I’ve got yours. I put my address in there too.” She hands my phone back to me. 

“Cool.” I look down at the screen to see that Charlie has named herself _Queen of Moondor_ in my contacts list. I chuckle as I realize I want nothing more than to spend my morning shooting the shit with Charlie, but the clock on my phone tells me I should get moving. “I gotta go to work. I’ll see you tonight.”

I give her a slight bow. “Happy Birthday, _Your Highness_.

***

It takes me a half hour to get dressed, and it makes me feel like a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t be trying so hard to look good tonight, since even though I can’t stop thinking about this guy, I don't actually want anything to happen between us. 

At least, not right now. Everything is too raw, too fresh. 

But still, I don’t exactly want to show up looking like someone Castiel _wouldn’t_ want to bend over the nearest table and fuck senseless. There’s nothing wrong with trying to affect him the way he does me, maybe I can screw with his head a little too, just as retaliation.

I end up in dark jeans and a green and blue plaid shirt that Lisa once told me I looked “positively fuckable” in. 

I figure that’s exactly what I’m going for.

By the time I pull up to the little blue house, I’m cursing my decision to go through with the night. Despite my affection for Charlie, and my apparent hard-on for Castiel, I don’t know if walking into a house full of people I don't know is really what I want right now. In fact, I’ve never enjoyed going to parties, especially ones where I don't know anyone. It was just an immediate reaction to accept the invite, the prospect of seeing Castiel again pushing me to answer before I could think it through. 

I take a deep breath and resign myself to the night, reciting _“I will not let Castiel fuck with my head”_ over and over as I exit my car.

There is music coming from the house, and lanterns strewn around the screened-in front porch. I can just make out two figures standing in front of the door, their bodies locked together in an intimate embrace. I’m already walking towards them so I don’t want to be awkward and turn around, so I just clear my throat and look away as they pull apart.

Just as I’m reaching the door to the screenediin porch, I catch a glimpse of red hair and my anxiety lifts.

“Dean! You made it!” Charlie beams, moving towards me and pulling me into a hug. “Yay!”

I laugh and look over Charlie’s shoulder to a blushing Gilda and give her a wink. “Of course. Said I would, didn't I?”

Charlie pulls back and I smile down at her. “Yeah, well, I still wasn’t sure. You don’t really seem like the partying type.”

“You got me there.” I laugh again. “But I figured I’d regret it if I didn’t show.”

“Damn straight.” Charlie pulls me towards the front door of the house. “Come on, let me introduce you to some people.” She places a quick kiss on Gilda’s cheek as she passes her.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.” I say, pulling my arm back to myself. I follow her inside the house and I’m immediately accosted by images from _The Wizard of Oz_. There is a plastic yellow brick road leading from the door and into the house, as well as multiple posters of Oz along the walls. There aren't that many people inside, which lulls some of my social anxiety, and only a few of them are dressed to match the apparent theme. I am grateful that I don't look out of place as Charlie begins to introduce me to her friends. 

I smile and shake hands, and try to keep my eyes on the people I meet, but I can’t help but scan the room every so often for a set of blue eyes or that impossible smirk. The sight never finds me though, and I begin to feel discouraged as the night matures and there is no sign of Castiel.

I am talking with Charlie and her friend Dorothy, trying desperately not to imagine the cocky bastard strutting in any moment, when his name pulls me out of my own head.

“It’s a shame Cas couldn’t be here.” Dorothy says into her red solo cup. She is looking up at me as if she knows his absence affects me as much as it does. Charlie elbows her side and then I know I’ve been made, but I refuse to openly admit defeat, so I scrunch my eyes in a confused expression.

“Who?” I sip on my soda and try to hide the blood that I know to be rushing to my cheeks.

“Castiel Novak.” Dorothy repeats, a glimmer of a smile hinting at her lips. “It’s too bad he isn’t here to help Charlie celebrate.”

“Oh.” I nod, as if just understanding. “Yeah, I guess so. You and he pretty close Charlie?”

“You could say that.” Charlie says coyly. “Cas and I go way back.”

That interests me far more than it should, but I’m afraid if I ask about it, I will give away even more. “So why isn’t he here?”

Charlie’s eyes widen minutely, but even out quickly. “Business trip.”

That has me reeling because under no circumstances do I see Castiel being the type to hold down a typical job. “What does he do?”

“He’s a staff writer for PETA.” Charlie answers almost too quickly.

“Oh yeah?” I say back slowly. There is something that isn’t being said, and I don't know what it is, but I can tell Charlie is holding something back.

“So he is off interviewing someone or something?” 

“Uh- not exactly...” Charlie says distractedly, decidedly not looking at me as she searches the room. “Hey!” She calls to a guy across the room. “Don’t put that there!” 

She moves quickly away from me and across the room to where a tall guy with a mullet is putting his drink on top of her television. I turn back to Dorothy, who is smiling over at Charlie affectionately. The way she is looking at her makes me think that she is definitely pining after the redheaded beauty.

“What was that all about?” I ask.

“She loves her television.” Dorothy answers back, still not pulling her eyes from Charlie.

“No, I mean the thing about Castiel.” I push, “Charlie wasn’t really clear about what he is doing tonight.”

Dorothy’s eyes shoot over to mine. “Oh, well- I don’t know.” Her tone goes ultra-casual, very quickly. “Castiel isn’t exactly a sharer. If you want to read some of his stuff though, I think you’d get a better idea about what he does.”

“Oh.” I answer back dumbly.

“But the stuff that really matters, the stuff that would really give you insight into...that’s all written under a pseudonym.”

“What's the name?” 

“That,” Dorothy smiles back at me before spotting someone over my shoulder and winking. “I can’t tell you.” She moves around me and I follow her path to see her approaching Gilda. The way Gilda is looking back at her, makes me think there is a lot more going on there than should be. 

My suspicion is confirmed as Dorothy wraps her arms around Gilda’s waist and places a chaste kiss on her lips. I don't know if I should feel confused or just down right pissed. 

Was Gilda cheating on Charlie with Dorothy?

Was Dorothy cheating on Gilda with Charlie?

My eyes scan the room for Charlie, but she is no where to be seen. I start searching for her, not even sure about what I’m going to say when I find her, when a familiar smell pulls my attention and distracts me from my mission. 

I follow the smell outside where I find the guy with a mullet taking a hit off of a joint.

“Hey man.” The guy says kindly. “You’re Dean right?”

“Yeah.” I say back, my eyes focused hard on the roach between his hands. “That’s me.”

“Cool.” He does a little wave, barely moving his hand in the process. “I’m Ash.”

“Hiding from Charlie?” I say, wanting to keep the conversation going so maybe this guy will offer me a hit.

“Nah. She’s all talk.” He kicks at the empty plastic chair across from him. “Wanna smoke?”

I let out a breath of relief. “Yeah man, thanks.”

It’s been years since I got high, since technically I’m not supposed to. It doesn't affect me the way alcohol did, though, and I’ve never seen the need to avoid it completely. 

Ash hands me the joint and I’m all too eager to get the smoke in my lungs and fall down the rabbit hole. I need to clear my head of Castiel, and this will definitely (hopefully) do the trick.

After the joint is passed back and forth a few times, and Charlie comes out once or twice to check on me, I find myself asking Ash about the status of Charlie’s relationship.

“Oh,” He says back slowly, the drug making his tongue heavy. “They’re together.”

“No shit dude. What I mean is, who is the couple? Who is the cheater?” 

“No cheater man. They’re _all_ together. All three of them.” Ash’s head dips back to catch the top of the chair and I think I raise mine up, but I cant be sure.

“All three? Like...” I trail off because I don't know what that's like. I didn't know that was actually a thing outside of porn.

“They’re..uh..poly...something. Polyamority...amora....amorous...Polyamorous. Yeah, I think that's it.”

“Huh.” I say back, my head spinning and trying to catch up to the conversation. “That's...cool.”

“Yeah.” Ash says back. “They love each other like crazy hard.”

I may say something else, but I don’t know what it is. 

The idea that three people can be in a committed relationship has me kind of freaked out, until it occurs to me how stupid that is. Even in my entirely inebriated state, I have enough sense to know that love is love. If three people want to be together, why the hell not? As long as they are happy, and no one is being hurt, why should it matter?

I smile to myself as I sit further back into my plastic chair and close my eyes.  
I have been pretty successful in keeping my mind off of the man who didn't show tonight, for the last hour or so. My accomplishment is pretty immediately thrown to the wind though, as the protective barrier my mind built around Castiel is destroyed by the drug flowing through my veins.

I close my eyes and all I see is blue. 

I see hard lines that dance around jaded eyes and scruffy cheeks that beg to be touched. I hear gravel in my ears, and irritation in my own voice. 

Darkness sets in, but I can see Castiel’s bright coy smile clear as day.


	10. Undisclosed Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Undisclosed Desires- Muse (From Cas' perspective)

_“I just don’t see why you do it.” I say, my hand tracing Lisa’s spine lightly. “Nothing changes, you know? It’s not like you yelling and screaming with a sign in your hand actually makes a difference. You know?”_

_Lisa eyes me for a second, and I’m sure she is about to roll her eyes and get pissy with me, but then she just sighs and lifts her hand to my cheek. “You’re missing the point Dean. Maybe going down to the capital and rallying against something doesn’t change the world right away, but doing it- actually getting off my ass and trying- that makes me feel like I’ve done something. It makes me feel like I’ve done my part.”_

_“But-”_

_“You don’t understand because you’ve never felt that strongly about anything.” She interrupts._

_“I care about stuff.” I argue. “It’s not like I’m all for racism, or whatever it is you’re yelling about this weekend, it’s just...I don’t know- I guess I don’t see the point.”_

_“That’s it exactly babe.” Lisa says softly. “Maybe one day something will stir you enough to care, or move you enough to want to scream at the top of your lungs for someone to listen.” She smiles softly. “It doesn’t make you a bad person that you don’t see the point in rallying for every unjust, and inhumane thing that happens in this world.”_

_She is soothing the worry she knows has begun to take hold and I love her even more in that moment._

_“I wish I could be more like you.” I try to smile back. “You know, shout about stuff I care about and believe I’m being heard, that there is anyone out there even remotely interested in what I have to say.”_

_“You have it in you, Dean.” She whispers against my lips. “You just have to find something you’re passionate about first.”_

 

***

It’s full week before I make my way back to the bar. 

After smoking up, thoughts of Castiel were quickly over taken by thoughts of my dead wife and guilt kept me from seeking him out. Her face haunted me in my sleep as well as in my waking hours, and I found it increasingly hard to keep her at bay. By the time my date with Charlie was upon me, I was closer than ever to buying a bottle of scotch and chasing it with a bottle of gin.

I spend all of Friday and most of Saturday at Charlie’s place watching, I admit, one of the best freaking movie series in the history of everything, _ever_. Besides being absolutely in love with the entertainment, I found myself quickly becoming enamored with the entertainer as well. 

Being around Charlie makes me feel more light, and carefree than anything else. I’ve never been close friends with a woman before, the few times I’ve tried always turned out pretty bad. I don’t know if it’s because she is in a relationship, or if it’s because she is gay, but it just seems so natural to be around her. There is no pressure to preform, no pretenses to keep up. I’d like to think her relationship status and sexual orientation have nothing to do with why I feel so calm when I’m with her, though. I’d like to think she is just this kindred spirit who I am meant to befriend. 

I carefully avoid going to the bar after Charlie’s birthday party. 

I really didn’t like how much Castiel was monopolizing my thoughts before my wife took over, and I thought some distance might help keep my fantasies under control. I didn’t see him on the beach at all either, and not seeing him was doing a lot of good things for my psyche. 

It seemed ridiculous that I could have let some cocky son-of-a-bitch squirm his way under my skin, after just a few meetings. It had to have been my grief over losing Lisa that made me so vulnerable. I’m not the kind of guy that gets hung up on people so easily, especially a guy like Castiel. 

So what if is his eyes are so blue I feel like I need a life preserver when I look into them? So what if his face is so infuriatingly gorgeous it makes Greek God’s jealous with envy? So what if his smile is so damn cocky I want to stuff it with my dick just to see his lips grow wider around it? 

Okay that last one got away from me a bit, but the point is, this guy isn’t anything special. He just happens to be the first person I’ve been attracted to since Lisa died, and that doesn’t make him extraordinary by any means.

By Sunday night I am confident my little crush has run its course. 

I decide to drive to the bar tonight, instead of walk because the cold is just a little too sharp for my taste. I purposely didn’t eat dinner at home so that I’d have a good excuse to be there tonight in case Mr. Knows-every-little-detail-about-me, is there. 

When I step inside I am both relived and disappointed to find the bar practically deserted. I receive a warm welcome from Gabe though, who is standing on a chair to reach the top shelf of the glass cabinets where the lesser used liquors are stored. 

“Need a hand?” I offer, grabbing a bar stool but not sitting down in case he takes me up on it.

“Nah, not really supposed to let you back here.” Gabe says, the chair wobbling under his feet as he cleans the cabinet out. “This crap is all dusty and gross. I should just take them all down and throw them out.”

“Since when do you care about following rules?” I challenge, a half-smile on my lips.

Gabe looks down at me for a second before shrugging. “Good point.” He comes down off of the chair and waves an arm out as an invitation. “Be my guest.”

I saunter around the other end of the bar and come behind it. I motion for Gabe to move out of the way, and he backs up comically and crosses his arms. “Maybe I should get on the other side, you know, enjoy the show a little better.”

“You want me to do this or not?” I gripe, careful to sound more amused than annoyed.

“I surely do.” Gabe answers back. “Just take down the bottles and I’ll clean them down here. I’ll give you a rag to rub down the cabinets when you’re done.”

“Sure thing boss.” I give him a wink and set to work, rising up to my tip-toes to pull down the obscure bottles of liquor. “Who even drinks this crap?”

“Old people and foreigners.” Gabe says back, taking his rag and cleaning the bottles off as I set them on the bar top.

After one of the cabinets is empty, I take off my jacket and throw it over the other side of the bar onto one of the stools. My button down shirt makes its way there a few moments later and soon I am just in a black t-shirt that hugs my chest and sneaks up my stomach when my hands are busy above me. 

Sometime during the third and last cabinet wipe-down, the door to the bar opens and my eyes instinctively go down through my arms to see who came inside. I don’t want to get Gabe into any trouble, and I want to know if I need to move to the other side. 

My stomach jumps into my throat, though, when my eyes land on the new arrival. 

My ex-crush has just walked in and is pretty openly looking me up and down. I don’t have enough sense to put my arms down for what feels like a full minute, as Castiel tilts his head slightly, and appreciates my exposed stomach and hips. My instinct is to cover up, but there is a coy smile on his lips as he walks forward, and it reminds me that I’m not supposed to care about what he thinks. 

So instead of putting down my arms and allowing my shirt to cover my stomach again, I continue to wipe out the last cabinet.

“Cassie!” Gabe greets, “Our usual exchange? Wit for whiskey?”

“That’ll do fine Gabriel. Thank you.” Castiel answers back smoothly, his eyes still on my body.

“Careful Dean-o, you might find some dollar bills in your pants if you keep that up much longer.” Gabe murmurs to me as he makes Castiel’s drink, his back turned away from the bar.

The look on Castiel’s face says he heard Gabe’s comment though, so I’m careful to show how unaffected I am by his attention. 

“Hmm?” I say, pretty confidently pulling off confusion, in my own humble opinion. 

I lower my arms and move around Gabe, putting the bottles back into their appropriate cabinet. 

Castiel’s voice pulls at me but I force myself not to look at him. “Got yourself a new employee Gabriel?”

“Dean’s just helping the height challenged.” Gabe answers back, pushing Castiel’s drink towards him. “Let me buy you dinner Dean, to thank you.”

“I won’t say no to that.” I reply easily, placing the last of the bottles up in the cabinet and wiping my brow. My hands are on my hips and Gabe is pretty openly staring between me and Castiel but I still refuse to look in the other man’s direction. Instead, I move back around the other side of the bar and take the seat my jacket and button down are on. It’s only two away from Castiel, but I figure he chose that seat for a reason, and I’m not going to let him intimidate me out of mine. “How about another burger, maybe that one with pepper jack?”

“You got it. Club soda?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I smile at Gabe, maybe a little too widely and pull my button down back on. There is a soft sigh from beside me, but still my resolve to not look at him wins out. I can feel my hands shaking though as I button my shirt back up and I pray that he doesn’t notice.

But because whatever God I just prayed to must be out to dinner, Castiel does notice and makes sure to call me on it.

“Nervous about something Dean?”

This time, I purposely move my eyes to the snarky man beside me and find those lips curved into that smirk that makes me want to scream. Instead of answering though, I just shrug and take my seat. He chuckles softly before standing up and pulling off his green jacket, the one he was wearing at the AA meeting, to reveal a dark blue long sleeve shirt. I notice the hem just makes it to his belt, which is crazy low on his hips. I’m not sure I’ve seen a pair of jeans sit so low on a man’s hips before, but the view is one I don’t ever want to live without again. His hip bones jut out just enough to protrude into his t-shirt, the sharp curve of them drawing my attention and holding me captive. 

And because my filter must be lost along with the rest of this guy’s jeans, I open my mouth to say something I’m sure I’ll regret.

“I don’t think nervous is the word I would use to describe it.”

Castiel looks genuinely shocked at my statement for a second before snickering at me and nodding. “Aren’t we bold this evening.”

He takes his seat again and I watch for a second as he brings his drink to his lips and sucks in the liquid. I can tell he is trying to draw me in, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction, so I turn away. 

Gabe is looking at us again, his eyebrows raised and an amused smile playing at his lips. “Should I just go then? Leave you two to it?”

“You’ll get no complaints from me.” Castiel says back smoothly.

“That’s alright Gabe, your company is actually appreciated.” I say hotly, giving a pointed glare in Castiel’s direction.

“Ouch!” Gabe replies back. “Careful Dean, Cassie here may just steal your ball at recess.”

“Your cleverness never seizes to disappoint me Gabriel.” Castiel murmurs through this glass.

His comment sends my eyes rolling, and landing on him. I want to find some way to unnerve him the way he still apparently does to me, so I start fishing.

“Charlie missed you at her birthday party.”

“No she didn’t.” He replies back casually, taking another sip of his beer.

Gabriel hands me my club soda and I suck down a few large gulps of it. “How do you know? You weren’t there.”

“Because I know my sister, and my presence at her birthday party wasn’t necessary.”

It takes me a beat, but soon his words are catching up to me and my mouth is hanging open slightly. “Your sister? Charlie is your sister?”

“Of sorts.” He answers, his eyes challenging me.

There are different flashes of my own emotions then and I don’t know how to proceed. Hearing that Charlie and Castiel were related somehow, hits me in the gut, and I don’t exactly know why. Maybe it’s because my own brother is dead and gone, and it’s all my fault. Maybe it’s because being with Charlie gives me that feeling of what it would be like to be a big brother again and I’m envious that Castiel gets that title.

I decide to press the issue.

“Of sorts? What the hell does that mean?”

Castiel shrugs and takes down the last of his drink. He nearly slams it on the bar before turning back towards me. “It means exactly what I said, Charlie is _sort of_ my sister.”

“How can someone be _sort of_ your sister?”

“Tell me about yours.” Castiel says coolly. “And I’ll tell you about mine.”

My throat goes dry and I have to strain to keep my breathing even. “I don’t have a sister.”

“A brother then...” Castiel squints at me, and tilts his head slightly. He watches as my face undoubtedly changes at the mention of Sam, and then his voice goes softer, but still probing in strength.

“Oh, I see. A dead brother then.” 

What the actual fuck is happening right now? Is this guy telepathic? 

I don’t want to give him any sort of clue that he is right, but I’m sure my expression is betraying me. I keep my voice as even as possible when I reply sharply, “Why don’t we save the heart to heart’s for another time Cas.”

His jaw clicks slightly, and I can see that he is tensing it. It must annoy him that I’m not letting him get to me, and I let my satisfaction drown out the hurricane of guilt that threatens my exterior when thoughts of Sam pull at my mind.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and watches as Gabe pours him another round. I finish mine off as well and ask Gabe for another. 

There is an uncomfortable silence between us as Gabe goes to the kitchen to grab my dinner and I find myself wanting to break it, but not knowing how.

Finally I decide to throw him a bone, for some unknown reason, and ask him something that’s been bugging me ever since we met.

“How did you know I was a widower?”

Castiel turns his head to face mine again, a contemplative look on his face. I can tell he is trying to decide whether to tell me or not, and I fear that maybe my unwillingness to play his game earlier may cause him to keep his mouth shut.

So it surprises me when he reaches down the bar and pulls my left hand into his. 

He leans over enough to point to my ring finger with his other hand. His skin is as warm as I remember it to be, and there is just as much electricity flowing through us as there was when we shook hands for the first time. My heart is noticeably beating harder at the contact, and I pray super-hearing isn’t one of his apparent supernatural abilities.

“You have a wedding ring tan, but you didn’t seem angry, just depressed.” He says it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and when he finishes he waits much longer than necessary to let go of my hand. To be fair, I don’t pull myself away either. 

He is close enough to smell the whiskey and smoke on his breath, which helps calm my hormones just enough to keep my dick flaccid. There is something else though too, something earthy and light that seems to belong to him alone. It is drawing me in, and I can see myself beginning to lean closer to this man who can tell so much about me with just one look.

When Gabe returns with my burger a second later, Cas gives me a little smile that tells me he knows how much I enjoy his hand being in mine, and I curse myself before pulling it out of his grasp. 

Castiel slowly rights himself and leans back in to his seat. 

“I leave you alone for two seconds and this is what I find.” Gabe shakes his finger at Castiel. “Be good Cassie, this one is too good for you.”

I give Gabe a big smile that is supposed to say _“You’re damn right”_ but I’m pretty sure looks more like, _“Thank you so much for saving me because if you hadn’t of come back right then, I may have kissed that smirk right off of him.”_

I think I know the answer, but my next question comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. “Have you ever been married Cas?”

“Do I look like the white picket fence type?” He answers back, eyes on the television above the bar, instead of me.

“That’s not what I asked.” I say back without hesitation. I start on my burger, and hum around it because it’s unbelievably delicious and I smile appreciatively to Gabe.

Castiel turns back to regard me, his eyes squinting as he sizes me up. Eventually, he just shrugs. “I’ve never had the occasion.”

“He means no one in their right mind would chose him for longer than a weekend in Vegas.” Gabe interjects, and a piece of me has to hold back the scowl I want to give the bartender for that comment.

“I see.” I say instead. “Well, maybe you just haven’t found the right person.”

Cas gives me another one of his infuriating smiles and my entire body comes alive.

“Are you proposing to me Dean?”

 

***

It’s another thirty minutes of pointed silence and occasional banter before I decide it would behoove me to get my ass in my car and head home. It has become pretty obvious to myself, and anyone with in a thirty mile radius, that my crush is not so much in the past but in the _fuck me right here and now_ , and I need to get the hell out of here.

“Thanks Gabe, that’ll do it for me.” I push my credit card towards him and he finishes drying the glass he is working on.

“Sure thing, Dean-O.” Gabe takes my card and turns away to run it at the register.

“How about a ride home?”

The question comes from beside me, and it feels like my entire world has gone off kilter when I turn to its source. I swallow hard, pushing back the butterflies trying to make their escape through my mouth. 

I should say no, I know this. 

But then again, there is no power on this earth that can stop my lips from parting to agree. I make sure to shrug a bit, and keep my face impassive, so that he doesn’t see the thrill run through me at his predatory smile. 

Gabe turns back to me and hands me my receipt. Castiel is already pulling on his jacket and heading towards the exit, a twenty dollar bill sitting under his empty glass.

As I sign the receipt, Gabe leans down to speak to me quietly. “You know what you’re doing there?” Gabe’s eyes are on Cas, and I instinctively turn to watch him walk out the door too, his impeccable ass demanding to be noticed.

I gulp down whatever I was about to say, and the truth comes sputtering out instead.

“Not even close.”


	11. Bloodstream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, three in one day. I don't know guys...I just cant get enough of this story and I hope you're enjoying it too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloodstream- Stateless

Cas is leaning against the passenger door of my car outside of the bar, like he has no doubt in his mind that my baby, does in fact, belong to me. 

I am about to ask how he knows she’s mine, before shaking away the question, knowing I probably wouldn’t like the answer, or maybe even not receive one at all. 

I walk over to the driver’s side and look over the top of my car to point at him harshly. “No smoking in my baby.”

He rolls his eyes but grins slightly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When I slide in and unlock the passenger door, Cas takes his time getting inside fully. He just sits on the edge of his seat for a moment, one leg hanging out of the car while the other tucks under the glove compartment. His hands smooth over the leather of the seat and then up to the dashboard. “Figures you’d have car like this.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, putting the key in the ignition and not waiting for Cas to pull himself entirely into the car before I put her in reverse. 

Cas grunts next to me as he moves fully inside the car and closes the passenger side door. I drape my hand across the back of the cabin seat, like I always do when I’m going in reverse, but this time there is Castiel’s neck at my figure tips and I jerk my hand away quickly as soon as they make contact. 

I curse myself for being so stupid, because Cas is snickering beside me and I force a scowl to my face to replace the horror that wants to shine through. 

“Classic car for a red-blooded, man’s man with _‘daddy issues.’_ ” He uses air quotes around my apparent psychological misfortune, and once again I am left stunned into silence at how easily he can read me. 

Except for the _‘man’s man’_ thing. Not sure what the hell that means, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t describe me, not the real me anyway.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out.” I say with an incredulous tone I hope carries more malice than I actually put behind it. 

“Just about.” Cas answers back smoothly, his eyes out the window and on the moon. It is full and bright in the sky, making the night look far more innocent than I know it to be. “There is one thing though, that I am still waiting for.”

“And what is that exactly?” 

“Your all-American boy, gay freak out.” He says with a mischievous smile.

“My what?” 

“I keep waiting to hear something about how you don’t like men, which I know to be categorically inaccurate, but you never do.”

The statement surprises me, since I haven’t felt insecure in my sexuality in over a decade, but I don’t want to let Cas off the hook that easily. I am positively thrilled that there is something he has gotten wrong about me, and I want to milk it as long as I can.

“And why are you waiting for this?”

“I thought it was fairly obvious Dean, my intentions, that is.” He says this with a raise of one of his eyebrows and I have to remind myself to keep my eyes on the road. Having Cas in my car, right next to me, sitting in my baby and filling her with his scent, it’s kind of fucking with my head at the moment and I’m worried basic driving skills may leave me. 

“Uh, yeah. You aren’t exactly subtle man.”

“I never intended to be.” I can feel his eyes on me, but I keep staring ahead. “But I am anticipating some sort of denial on your part. You carry the weight of your father’s disapproval, perhaps your mother’s too although I haven’t come to a conclusion on that. That fact, combined with your heterosexual marriage, and a dead brother I now believe to have something to do with why you choose not to drink...I am expecting a classic, closeted argument any day now.”

I try to brush off his, all too accurate words about my family, and focus on how little he actually knows about me. I smile to myself as I stare out into the night. 

“You know,” My tone is playful, and my expression is probably pretty damn smug. “You’re a lot more affective at that mysterious, asshole thing you got going, when you keep your mouth shut.”

Castiel lets out a bark of a laugh beside me, and I see a smile on his face that I haven’t seen before. It looks more genuine, like he is actually solely amused by my comment, rather than trying to put on some sort of show.

“Noted.” He says through another chuckle, his hand going up to cover his mouth as if it betrayed him somehow. 

“Well, if that’s what you’re waiting for Cas, you’ll be waiting a helluva long time. I know who I am and I’ve got zero questions about my sexuality.” I say it confidently, fully aware of how deep my voice goes. “But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to do something about whatever it is we got going on here.”

Castiel turns to me again, his shoulders actually turning with his head as he does. I take a glance in his direction and find him looking at me with an almost astonished expression. I find a shit load of pleasure in causing that particular expression, and it makes my mind wander as to what other faces I could get out of him. 

“You going to give me some direction here or am I just supposed to guess?” I say, once my eyes are once again firmly on the road.

“Take your next left.” Castiel says back, his expression returned to its normal state. “If I am to assume your home is the one you were sitting outside of the other night, we live six houses apart.”

My stomach does that flipping thing again, and I blink furiously as I process that information. My thoughts have already started to roam to late night grope sessions in the sand, and impromptu stop-ins that lead to all things naked Castiel. I shake away the thoughts almost as quickly as they enter, my wife’s face pulling me back to reality.

“Let me ask you something Dean.” Cas says slowly, his gaze hot. 

“You say it as if I have a choice.”

“Usually, the choice to answer has been left up to you. But, seeing as how you have given me a ride home, I’ll let you have the choice to hear the question this time as well.”

I think about that for a second before letting out a loud sigh. The truth is, my curiosity at what Cas wants to know about me far outweighs my anxiety at listening to another analyzing question about myself.

“What the hell Cas, go for it.”

I think I see a slight grin on his lips but it disappears quickly as he opens his mouth to speak. “How long are you going to torture yourself?”

I don’t know what I regret more, letting him ask the question, or not knowing what it is he is referring to exactly.

“Leave it to you to make things weird Cas.”

“Not saying something just because it might make someone uncomfortable is a stupid way to live. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed Dean,” Cas leans over the cabin seat and he is suddenly inches from my face as he whispers into my ear. “I’m not exactly stupid.”

I can feel his breath hot on my skin and my knuckles blanch over the steering wheel because, _holy fuck_ , I want him.

But I push that away and keep my eyes on the road, letting images of Lisa’s disapproving glare cloud my vision. “And- uh- what exactly am I supposed to be torturing myself with?”

Castiel doesn’t move back right away, but when he does I feel his absence like a cold bucket of water being poured over me. “From what I can tell, multiple things. Your family issues, including your brother’s death. Your recently deceased wife, and your guilt over wanting to fuck me.”

I shudder at his words, but steel myself because that’s who I am when I’m with Castiel.

He challenges me, and my tongue finds words my mind hasn’t come up with yet. 

“So sure of yourself are you?”

“Yes.” Cas says it without the smirk I have come to expect of his cocky comments, and I find it all the more intimidating. 

He motions with his hand out the window before I can say anything in reply.

“Here.”

He is pointing to a small house with white siding and blue shutters. I immediately notice a gutter hanging loose on the side of the house, and I find it irritates me more than it should. 

Suddenly the time to say goodnight is here and I am completely terrified as to how that will play out. I know I’m not going to reach over and make a move, but I’m not confident in my ability to deny Cas if he were to come to me instead.

Castiel turns to me, something in his eyes that tells me he is probably debating the exact scenario I am beginning to plan for. Before he can move a muscle though, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“So, Charlie says you work for PETA?”

Cas’ head jumps back slightly at that, surprise coloring his features for a moment before narrowing his eyes at me. “Yes, that’s accurate.”

“She was a little unclear about what that meant. What is it that you do exactly, Cas?”

“I’m a staff writer.” He says it strangely, as if it was the answer to a different question.

“Right.” I nod, filling the word with a fair amount of disbelief.

I can see him giving me a half smile in the moonlight, and it forces me to smile back. Another moment passes, and I know I’m sweating but I can’t seem to do anything about it. Cas’ hand is on the door handle then, and I let out a sigh of relief because it seems he has made the decision to keep his distance tonight. 

But then my heart is hammering in my chest because Cas is leaning back towards me, his face once again inches from my own. His lips are just barely grazing the tip of my ear lobe and my skin begins to dance under him. When he speaks, his voice is in low whisper that makes my breath quicken.

“Don’t ask questions you are unprepared to hear the answers to.” 

I squeeze the steering wheel to keep myself from grabbing his face and jamming mine on to it. When he pulls away, I know I can see one of his satisfied smirks out of the corner of my eye, and I want to do something to wipe it away, but I’m afraid to move at all. 

So I let my mouth do the deed instead.

“Don’t assume the answer would interest me.”

I boldly turn my head to see the affect my words have on him, and his expression doesn’t disappoint. In fact, he looks so damn adorable when he is put in his place it makes the moment that much harder to withstand. 

My mouth goes dry for the thousandth time that night and my tongue flicks out to coat my lips in saliva. He follows the motion with his eyes, and they go noticeably darker as his eyebrow lifts again, as if to challenge me. 

I don’t move though, and simply hold his gaze. 

When he finally turns back towards the door, it takes every ounce of strength I possess not to let out the sigh of relief my body wants to expel. 

The car door is open, and Castiel is stepping outside and I’m nearly there, I’m _so close_ to getting out of this night without feeling like a complete asshole.

Then Cas bends down to stick is head back inside the car.

“Just so you are prepared, the next time a moment like that passes between us, I will not stop myself.” He stares at me for another long moment, an indiscernible look on his face before standing back up and slamming the car door shut.

 

***

The next day is a just a series of motions being performed by my hands. 

Cars are brought into the bay, I fix them, and they are taken out again. I haven’t even eaten my lunch by the time Rufus is shutting down for the day.

My head is swimming in rotating images of Lisa and Cas, and it is driving me insane. The only way I know how to fight it, is to be busy, to keep moving.

By the time I make it home, I am starving, but decide there is no way I’m having dinner at the bar tonight, and quickly throw together something from my freezer. I don’t even have the guts to eat my dinner out on the back porch like I usually do, for fear of seeing Cas on the beach.

It’s ridiculous really, this hold he seems to have over me even though I am pretty sure I am not ready to go there with him, or anyone for that matter. It’s just this powerful pull, that when I’m around him, seems to draw me in with no regard to reason.

I do like it though, that feeling when we are together. I like how powerful I seem to be, how much more dominant a person I become. I like the feeling I get when I challenge him, when I force him off his high horse. It’s like a high I don’t want to get down from.

After dinner, I decide to look up some of the writing Dorothy had mentioned at Charlie’s party. As my laptop starts up, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I see that Charlie has texted me.

 

**_Queen of Moondor: No coffee this morning??  
Queen of Moondor: I had the best tip jars this morning too! _ **

 

I feel bad that I didn’t go in for coffee, and it was nearly impossible not to do so since that coffee has me ready to commit various crimes in order to ensure its continued existence. But trying to keep Castiel out of my head would be pretty difficult if I hang out with his sister right now.

 

**_Dean: I know, I’m sorry. Got a late start and didn’t have time to stop in.  
Dean: What were they?_ **

****

**_Queen of Moondor: Mario vs. Zelda_ **

****

****_Dean: Crap._  
Dean: I have no idea.  
Dean: Don’t make me chose Charlie, don’t do it. 

****

**_Queen of Moondor: Thems the rules Dean._ **

****_Dean: Zelda._  
Dean: NO Mario.  
Dean: No wait, which Mario?! 

**_Queen of Moondor: You’re ridiculous._ **

**_Dean: Don’t I know it._ **

****

**_Queen of Moondor: What are you up to?_ **

 

I freeze before typing out an answer. It occurs to me that there is no reason to lie about what I plan to do with my evening, and it may in fact help me figure out this thing Cas and I have going to talk to Charlie about it.

**_Dean: Thought I’d look up some of Cas’ PETA stuff_ **

**_Queen of Moondor: Oh reeeeeeeeeallly  
Queen of Moondor: Interesting._ **

****

**_Dean: Hush._ **

****

**_Queen of Moondor: You got it bad for Cas, huh?_ **

****

**_Dean: Your brother, you mean?_ **

****

**_Queen of Moondor: He told you?  
Queen of Moondor: Surprising._ **

****

**_Dean: Why?_ **

****

**_Queen of Moondor: Cas is pretty secretive...pretty much about everything_ **

****

**_Dean: So I’ve noticed._ **

****

**_Queen of Moondor: You going to make an honest man out of my brother Dean?_ **

****

**_Dean: I’m just reading! Chill!_ **

****

**_Queen of Moondor: We’ll see.  
Queen of Moondor: Will I see you tomorrow?_ **

 

I hesitate before answering again, but finally commit to the fact that there isn’t any version of my future that didn’t involve Charlie. 

 

**_Dean: Yep._ **

****

**_Queen of Moondor: Awesome.  
Queen of Moondor: Happy stalking._ **

****

**_Dean: Be quiet._ **

 

***

 

Tuesday is my day off, and I spend the first few hours of the morning sleeping in and enjoying a few extra hours of sleep. 

I spent Monday night reading just about every article Cas had written for PETA. They ranged from interviews to exposes on various industries and manufacturing procedures that he disagreed with. I found myself getting lost in his heated words, the passion for his cause apparent in every syllable of his prose.

There was one article about leather and it made me cringe to think that Castiel was thinking about the torture of animals when he got inside my car the other night. It strikes me as strange that he didn’t call me out on that, and I’m grateful that he didn’t. I have never given much thought to animal rights, besides my pretty basic _don’t be dick_ to them, philosophy. 

I decide to finally take the plunge and go for that run I’ve been putting off before I make myself some brunch, and thoughts of Castiel and his powerful words stay fresh in my brain as I run along the beach. I ask myself questions I have never asked myself before, and wonder if Lisa would be impressed with my apparent interest in Castiel’s cause.

She had always wanted me to care about something, to give myself over to a cause bigger than myself, but I had never found anything worth my time. I’m not saying I am suddenly going to turn into an animal rights activist because the guy I am jonesing after is, but his passion is rather intoxicating. 

Every point he makes about animal testing and other ways animals are used to better human life with complete disregard for the lives of the animals, it makes me kind of angry. 

Angry?

Yes, I feel angry about this. I’m not sure what that means exactly, but I figure it’s a start.

By the time I get back to my place, I have decided to do some more research, this time reading from sources other than Cas to be sure my opinion isn’t being swayed.

I don’t make it much farther than the steps of my screened in porch though, because my body is suddenly made of every kind of stone on earth, and it’s starting to sink into the ground.

Cas is waiting for me, sitting in one of my chairs with his feet propped up on the porch table. There is a book in his hand but he isn’t looking at it any more, his eyes have found mine instead, and I realize belatedly that I have been standing in the same spot for a very long time.

“Are you going to come inside? Or am I going to have to retrieve you myself?”


	12. Only

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only- Boots (This song is pretty haunting...and since I cant find the lyrics anywhere I cant be positive it is a good representation for Cas for this chapter, but its meant to...so...yeah.)

Once I feel confident that my eyes are properly back in their sockets, I wash my face of my shock and glare through the door of my screened-in porch. 

Cas is looking at me expectantly, but I know he wants me to say something about what he is doing here, so instead I just keep silent and open the door. I take a few steps inside and cross my arms. 

I think if my body language could speak for itself, it would be saying _I may want you mother fucker, but you don’t just show up to my house like this, and also maybe keep your distance because if you come over here I’m may try to blow you._

Cas’ words from the other night ring in my ears, and I don’t want to give him a reason to make a move, not yet at least. There is a piece of me that wants to put some arbitrary date on when I’ll be open for business, that way I can just concentrate on that and avoid Castiel until then.

But a much greater part of me thinks that I should just go with how I feel, and when I feel it. If i don’t feel guilty about sinking to my knees for this guy, then I should do it. If I see my wife when I try to imagine fucking Cas, then I’ll take that as a sign that I’m not ready. I figure this will keep me out of the doghouse if there really is an afterlife and Lisa is watching me. 

Resolved not to say a word until Cas does, my body settles into its position. My face, hopefully as impassive as I mean it to be. 

A full minute must pass between us before Cas is snickering quietly to himself. “I guess I can add stubborn to the growing list of your personality traits.”

I am so relieved that the Cas breaks the silence first, I don’t even try to keep it going. 

“You have a list?”

“Perhaps.”

“Can I see it?”

Cas narrows his eyes at me for a moment, the crinkles around them growing deeper as he squints slightly. “It is not tangible.”

I laugh because his expression calls for it, and take another few steps forward. I decide to sit at the table across from Cas. I’m hoping its the perfect way to keep some distance between us, but relax my body a little as well.

“Right.” I lick my lips as I roll my eyes slightly. “Isn’t it a little early for trick-or-treating Cas?”

Castiel looks confused for a second, but then understanding coats his features and he is smiling at me. “If I dressed up for you, would you give me a treat?”

“Cute.” I say dryly. 

Cas grunts out a laugh and keeps a smirk on his face. “Any plans for this year’s celebration of childhood diabetes?”

“Not really. Do you know if there are a lot of kids that come around here? I don’t know if I need to get candy or not.”

Castiel just looks at me like I’m missing a very important aspect of our conversation, and it takes me much too long to realize what it is.

“Oh right, you probably don’t do the whole, mainstream holiday thing huh?”

There is a slight nod of his head, _I think_ , and that’s all I get on that.

We sit there for another long minute before I remember how sweaty and gross I am, despite the cold weather, and begin to panic that Cas can smell me from across the table.

“I should -uh- clean up.” I say slowly, getting up from the table in a way that I hope doesn’t shift the air too much. I feel slightly stupid, but not enough to do it any differently.

“You smell fine.” He says it casually, like he wasn’t using his annoying superpowers to dissect my thoughts.

I just sigh though, and shrug. “Nonetheless, I feel gross and want a shower.”

“Is this your polite way of asking me to leave?”

“No.” I say plainly. “This is my way of saying I’m going to go take a shower now. You can stay out here all you like Cas, no skin off my back.” I turn to head towards the patio door, but stop abruptly when I hear Cas shift at the table. I look over my shoulder to find him staring pretty openly at my backside. “I will be locking my bathroom door though, so don’t get any ideas.”

He puts on a mock innocent face that suits him far too much, and I roll my eyes once more before heading inside.

I make my way to the bathroom and lock the door once I am safely inside of it. Even though I know he can’t see me, I strip much more self-consciously than I usually do. 

Once I’m in the shower, I find it nearly impossible to keep my mind off of the man currently occupying my back porch. I spend the first step of my shower routine thinking about why he showed up, before realizing he probably didn’t have one.   
If Cas wanted to see me, I’m sure that was reason enough for him. Also, I’m sure he got a thrill out of seeing my eyes bug out of my skull when I saw him sitting there. 

I cringe at that, wishing desperately I could go back and look completely unaffected by his presence. I make a note that I now live in a world where Cas can just show up at any time, and promise myself to do better next time. 

By the time I’m soaping up, I realize I’ve been thinking about the way Cas looked sitting on my porch for much longer than I should be. He was dressed in his usual ripped and snuggly fit jeans, and wore a black zip-up hoodie over what looked like a plain white t-shirt.

My mind immediately goes to the sound the zipper would make as it came down in my hands. I wonder how tightly the shirt fit across his chest, and how soft the material would be. I imagine it being well-worn, that broken in kind of soft you only get after having something for twenty years. I picture my hands going out and smoothing out any wrinkles in the shirt across his chest, and find my fingers pushing the hoddie off his shoulders as they explore Cas’ body.

Oh shit.

I look down to see that my dick has sprung to life, which is my usual cue to turn the water to cold and get the hell out as quickly as possible, but I’m curious if I could be ready for this next step. 

I haven’t jerked off since before my wife died, not seeing any need or want for it. The last few weeks however, there has been a whole lot of need and want, but every time I think about doing it while thinking about Cas, guilt stops me. But right now, I’m not seeing Lisa behind my eyes, giving me a disapproving glare. All I see is Cas and that stupid smirk and his perfectly pink lips that I bet taste better than fresh lemonade on a summer day.

Fuck it.

My hand wraps around my dick and the pressure is already better than I imagined it would be. I let my mind drift back to Cas and those damn jeans and how they fit around his waist. I imagine my hands around them, my thumbs making circles into his hip bones. My hand begins to stroke, as Cas’ hands work their way up my arms to my biceps, squeezing them slightly as he draws me in.

Picturing kissing Cas has my hand moving faster and faster, each imaginary swipe of his tongue taking me closer to the edge. 

I’m fully aware of how embarrassed I should be about how quickly I’m about to come, but I don’t dwell on it. Instead, I jump to the good stuff and imagine Cas dropping to his knees and wrapping those lips around me. 

The sight, even though it’s entirely in my head, pushes me so hard and so fast towards my orgasm, I barely notice that my other hand has reached around and I’m pushing a finger inside of myself. The moment my muscles clench hot and hard around my finger, I’m coming over my hand, barely stifling the moan that pushes at my lips. 

I stroke myself through my orgasm until I can barely stand up straight and I have to lean against the shower wall. There is a momentary freak out over whether Cas had come inside and heard me, but I let that go. 

So what if he did?

We both know how much I want him, no point in trying to deny that anymore. And the satisfaction he’d get from knowing I was jerking off at thoughts of him, would be drowned by my unwillingness to go through with the fantasy for real. 

This was a good test, and since Lisa hasn’t shown up to kick my ass mentally, I’d say jacking off to Cas is now safe territory. I’m not willing to bet that actually messing around with him would be as successful though, and the last thing I want is to start something and then have a major freak out and embarrass the shit out of myself.

I finish cleaning myself up and I’m out of the shower a few minutes later. Once the water is off, I listen for sounds that would tell me if Cas is inside or not, but I hear nothing. 

I wrap the towel around myself and head out of the bathroom to my bedroom where I dress quickly in jeans and an old AC/DC t-shirt. It is one of the last things my mom got for me before I left, and fits just a little too tightly now, but it’s soft and comfortable and I need something familiar at the moment.

When I make my way to the back porch, I don’t try to hide my disappointment when I find it deserted.

***

The rest of the week is filled with plenty of stroke sessions with Cas as my main star. 

I drop in to the coffee shop daily to see Charlie and get my coffee, and stop by the bar once to have dinner and see Gabe. Cas didn’t show that night, and neither of us brought him up. I could tell Gabe wanted to, the few times the bar door opened and he caught me looking at it expectantly, but he surprised me by never calling me out on it. 

Once Halloween rolls around on Saturday, I find myself itching to see Cas. 

Charlie let it drop that he was out of town again earlier in the week, but also mentioned she expected to see him after the meeting on Sunday. I took it as a subtle reminder that a meeting might serve me well, and promised her I would see her there this weekend. 

I had a half shift at the shop this morning, but I’m home by five and I need to do something with myself before I end up at Loki’s or _worse_ , start going through the boxes that still lined the walls of my living room. I consider going for another run, but thoughts of seeing Cas monopolize my thoughts and I find myself formulating a plan to do so.

A quick stop at the hardware store and thirty minutes later I am up on a ladder outside of Cas’ house.

I am holding up his gutter with one hand and pounding a nail into the siding with another, as I wait somewhat impatiently for Cas to make an appearance. It doesn’t take more than a few bangs of my hammer, thankfully, before Cas is opening his front door with a curious but irritatingly calm look on his face.

I’ve got a nail between my teeth, but I smile down at him anyway when he looks up at me. I pull the nail from my teeth and place it in the right spot before driving it into the siding to secure the gutter. 

Castiel just watches me work, and leans against his doorway, his arms crossed against his chest. I can feel him staring at me, and it makes my skin hot as I have a momentary freak out that maybe this was a very bad idea and that maybe I should just get off this ladder and _run the fuck home._

Once I’m finished, I am careful to step down as confidently as I can manage, and do my best to keep my face completely unaffected by his close proximity. I swallow back the lean in my body wants to preform once I am standing in front of him, and break the silence with the reason for my presence.

“I figured if we were just going to start showing up at each other’s places, I could at least take care of something that’s been bugging the shit out of me ever since I saw it.”

Cas looks up at the gutter and raises his eyebrows. “Quite the elaborate excuse.”

And because he’s not wrong, I just shrug.

“Were you hoping for some candy Dean?” Cas asks, his lips curving into a sly smile. 

“No.” I answer back easily. “Do you actually have any?”

“Of a sort.” His eyebrow cocks up on one side and it sends a jolt of something wicked to my groin.

I let out an exasperated side at his all too obvious innuendo, but I know I’m smiling. We stand there, on the precipice of something I am pretty confident is a really bad idea, for what feels like an eternity, before Cas moves inside the house without a word. 

He leaves the front door open, which I reluctantly take as my cue to follow him inside.

Castiel’s house is pretty much how I imagined it would be. 

Very minimalistic, but with random things of interest that are placed way too nonchalantly to actually be an accident.

I walk into what must be the living room, the kitchen and dining room just past it and to the right. 

There is a couch that has seen better days, a recliner that looks like it’s been slept in more than it was made to, and a television hanging on the wall. The coffee table is glass and covered in news clippings and magazine articles. The walls are bare except for the television and one large piece of art that is just paint splattered in random areas. I’m sure it’s some representation of angst or sexuality, but it doesn’t hold my interest long enough to give it more thought.

I can hear Cas doing something in the kitchen, so I move through the living room to find him pulling a mug from the cabinet. He tilts it towards me as a question, and I nod. He pours me a cup of coffee, then tops off his half full one.

“Kind of late for coffee.” I murmur around my first sip.

“You’re drinking it, yes?”

“Yeah.” I say with squint of my brow.

“Then it’s not too late.” He shrugs and sips from his own cup. 

There is a magazine on the counter that I assume Cas was looking through when he heard me banging on his house, and after a moment of pointed staring, he begins to thumb through it again. 

I take that as my opportunity to take a better look around, and turn towards the back door off of the dining room. I call it a dining room, but really it is just a small two-seater table covered in large rolled up pieces of paper that look like blueprints. I can see the water from the sliding glass door, there is no dune to block the view. I wonder about how often his place floods for a moment before my attention is drawn to the noises being made behind me. 

Castiel has moved around the counter and is dialing a number on his cellphone. I want to find it strange that Cas is just continuing whatever he was doing before I got there, but at the same time it suits me fine. I like that Cas is just Cas, he doesn’t put up anything false.

“Delivery please.” Castiel says plainly.

What is he ordering?

“Yes. That will be fine. Thank you.”

He hangs up.

“You got some standing order for dinner somewhere Cas?”

Castiel turns around to look at me with a hint of a smile on his lips. 

I guess he has figured out that saying nothing unnerves me more than when he speaks, which he would definitely right about.

Of course.

I watch as Cas moves out of the kitchen and picks up the television remote on his way to sit in the recliner. He sips his coffee as he sits and turns on the TV, and I think it looks kind of odd, this oddly secretive man doing something as mundane as watching TV.

I follow him into the living room and sit on the couch. I don’t ask him what he plans to watch, since I don’t anticipate an answer. 

I am pleasantly surprised to see that he is tuning in to the _Halloween_ marathon that plays every year. The sun is just beginning to set, and there is a soft glow in the living room that sets the mood pretty perfectly for a horror movie.

I resign myself to spending my night in front of the TV with Cas. This gives me so many different types of emotions, I don’t even know how to process them, but I know one thing for sure.

There is a horror movie playing on the television, but the only thing I’m afraid of tonight is the decisions I have yet to make.


	13. Do I Wanna Know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I Wanna Know- Arctic Monkeys (from Cas' point of view)

We are both settling into our respective movie watching areas and silence falls easily, but something makes me want to cut it.

“Tradition of yours Cas?”

I don’t expect an answer, so when he turns to me and nods I don’t have time to hide my surprise.

“How many times do you have to do something for it to become a tradition?” He turns back towards the television where Jamie Lee Curtis has just appeared. 

“I don’t know, a few?”

“Then yes. Although, generally, I make it a point not to be sober.”

“Don’t stop on my account.” I say, slightly taken back that Cas has chosen not to drink because I am there.

“I’m not.” There is a beat and then he is turning back to me. “Well, that wouldn’t be entirely accurate. But I’m actually interested in seeing if the films holds up when my mind isn’t clouded with alcohol.”

“The first one is amazing no matter what state you’re in. If I remember correctly the second one is pretty good too. The one with the little girl and the clown thing is strange...and I can’t remember the fourth one. But I don’t care what people say about H2O, that shit was awesome.”

“Interesting.” Cas has another smile that doesn’t look like there is anything but amusement behind it, and I find myself shifting uncomfortably at the sight. 

Its odd, this different version of Cas that is slowly making itself known. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it _softer_ , but there is something far less abrasive about him at the moment.

As the movie continues, and nothing else is said between us, I settle into couch more fully. I’m grateful Cas chose not to sit next to me, since being that close to him may actually make my head spin around in circles. I let myself get absorbed in the movie, occasionally taking glances at Castiel to see his reactions. It’s hard to tell if he is enjoying it or not, his face so difficult to read, especially in the growing darkness. 

The shadows of the setting sun cast a kind of soft light that catches the stubble on Cas’ cheeks, and it captivates me into a long winded stare. 

There is a knock at the door though, and it abruptly pulls me from a fantasy my mind was formulating about bending over the recliner and kissing Cas stupid. 

Castiel gets up and opens the door. I can’t see who is at the door, but I just barely make out the bill of a baseball cap around Cas’ head. Cas is pulling out his wallet and handing whoever it is some money and I’m wondering if I’m about to be fed food or drugs. 

Cas backs up and closing the door and when he turns around, a wide grin finds my face, because Cas is holding _pizza_ and my stomach growls in appreciation. 

He brings the pizza over to the coffee table and takes a seat next to me so that it is placed in front of both of us. He doesn’t bother to move all the crap on the table, opting to just drop the box on top of the mess of papers.

“This a tradition too Cas?”

Castiel opens the pizza box and I see an assortment of vegetables staring back at me. 

Figures.

 

“Perhaps.”

“That doesn’t really make any sense man, either it is or it isn’t.” I reach for a piece after Cas has collected one of his own and take a bite. There is a surprising tang to it and upon further inspection I realize there are banana peppers on the pizza. It’s pretty freaking awesome.

“I didn’t intend for you to understand my meaning.” He finally says, as soon as his mouth is clear of food.

“Then why say anything at all?” I ask the question despite knowing full well why he says the shit he does.

I am expecting either silence or a pointed look, but Cas shrugs and speaks. “Sometimes it’s because my mouth opens before I can tell it not to, and other times it’s just to fuck with you.”

“You don’t get points for honesty if you’re being a dick Cas.”

There is a smile on his lips as he bites into his pizza again, and I force myself to look away from the way his eyes brighten at my response.

By the time we have had our fill and are settled back into the couch, Jamie Lee Curtis is stabbing Michael Myers in the eye with a coat hanger, and Cas has found himself pressed up against my side. There is barely room for a finger between our thighs, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t noticed the extreme heat radiating off of him. 

I feel like I can feel his pulse between the fabric of our jeans, and its killing me not to know what he is thinking. Especially because he always seems to be able to figure out my own inner monologue so easily. I bet he is having a laugh right now, knowing how much I am freaking out at our closeness.

I decide to try and focus on the movie, which is a good idea because Michael Myers is now being shot and it brings up something to cut the tension.

“Do you think he is super human? Or just gets lucky?”

Cas turns his head to look at me for a second, but I can’t return his gaze because I’m afraid it will turn into a lifelong staring contest that ends with Cas bent over this couch and screaming my name. This thought makes my dick twitch, and _shit_ I really need to stop thinking.

“I’ve asked myself that many times.” Cas finally responds. “But I haven’t come up with a sound conclusion.”

“Yeah. I mean, if they are going for the super human thing, they could at least insert some other supernatural stuff in the verse, you know? So that maybe it makes a little more sense?”

“Perhaps that’s the point. Things are far more frightening when you don’t understand them.”

His eyes are on me again, his head tilted just enough so that I can feel the hint of his breath against my cheek. 

I could turn to face him, I could do that and get the next step out of the way. 

The step where I let him kiss me and I pretend not to freak out. The step that pushes me a little farther toward oblivion. 

I am already feeling like a cheater at the moment though, and if this goes any further I will probably start seeing my dead wife in the corner slapping a ruler against her hand. 

I know it’s ridiculous, and I know that Lisa would want me to be happy, and not mourn her forever, but it still feels wrong somehow and it’s not like I can just move on simply because I’m beginning to want to.

Cas’ eyes are still on me, his face still angled just enough to make it awkward that I am not returning his stare. I can see his chest rising and falling steadily out of the corner of my eye and I curse him and his ability to be so damn cool, all the fucking time.

Finally, after another moment passes and the earth hasn’t shattered around us, my mind blanks and suddenly my eyes meet his. It’s a simple move, just an adjustment of vertebrae in my neck that sets my world on fire, and my heart beating the shit out of my chest. 

There are butterflies flying and anvils falling, and every possible kind of explosive device on the planet going off in my body, as Cas’ eyes flick down to my lips. 

It distracts me enough not to notice his hand moving from his lap and onto my thigh.

I don’t dare look down as his fingers trace the inseam of my jeans, I don’t want to give him the impression that his hand’s placement is affecting me as completely as it is. 

In reality though, my head is playing _CAS IS TOUCHING MY THIGH_ on repeat and I’m fairly positive he has noticed how quickly my breath begins to come.

I can hear him move before I see it, the couch springs adjusting beneath him as Cas leans forward and brings his face closer to mine. He angles his body so that his other hand comes up and rests against my neck, affectively pushing me back further into the couch. 

His body is hovering over mine, and I want so desperately to reach out and touch him. I can’t make my hands move though because they are clenched in my lap. Touching Cas is something I want more than anything, but also kind of cinches the whole making a move thing, and I really can’t commit to that yet.

Cas’ eyes are back up to mine, and scorching through every wall I’m trying desperately to cling to. I keep my hands to myself, even as Cas leans closer and his breath is on my lips. Our eyes are still locked, despite how close we are to one another, but when I feel his tongue graze my lips, my lids flutter shut. 

He traces the seam, probably his way of asking permission, but I don’t respond aside from my ragged breathing that I know I should try to get a handle on. I can feel him inch closer, and his mouth closes over mine just barely, before he his pulling back again, his tongue flicking out once more to taste my lower lip. I want to taste him too, I want to suck in the breath he is exhaling against me, but I am frozen solid.

His hand is very high up my thigh now and if he just takes it another inch further he is sure to feel the erection I know to be tenting my jeans. 

I can’t help but part my lips now, because my breath is coming so quickly it cannot be contained through my nose alone. My eyes are strained shut because I know if I relax enough to open my eyes I will find Lisa scowling at me or worse, taking Cas’ place. 

I’m waiting for Cas to make another move, but nothing more happens. 

In fact, the hand on my neck releases me, and Cas is pulling himself back before I know what has happened. 

It occurs to me that maybe my reaction was a bit too strong, as I can feel my body aching from the tension of holding back so much. When I gain enough courage to open my eyes, I find Cas looking at me with a look I dare deem _concern_.

“I-I’m sorry.” I stutter because I’m a pathetic wuss, who can’t seem to get over whatever it is that is holding me back from having what I want. 

“It’s fine.” Cas said easily, and his expression confirms how fine he is with what just happened. “I was expecting worse to be honest.”

“Expecting?” I adjust myself as subtly as I can manage, considering how close Cas is still sitting.

“It was just an experiment Dean.” Cas pauses and then his lips curl in his standard cocky smirk. “Mostly.”

“An experiment? What the fuck Cas?” I know I should be as annoyed as my words imply, but mostly I am just trying to get my dick to cooperate and _sit the fuck down_.

“I wanted to see how fucked up you really are.” He shrugs as if his answer is completely satisfactory and I shake my head at him.

“You know how not cool that is, right?”

“The thought occurred to me.” He looks back to the TV which has begun playing the next Halloween movie. “I disregarded it.”

“Of course you did.” I sigh and turn my head back towards the movie as well. “Well, what is your analysis Freud? I know you’re dying to tell me.”

I can see him trying to hide a smile out of the corner of my eyes, and I stifle one of my own at my effect on him. 

“Very well.” He turns back towards me, this time scooting himself back against the other side of the couch and laying himself back, so that he is resting against the arm. His legs stretch out, but he tucks his knees enough so they arent laying across my lap. “It’s obvious by your increased heart rate and breathing, that I affected you in the way I intended to. But it’s also obvious by your near hyperventilation and how tightly you kept your eyes shut, that you still carry your wife with you. You feel guilty for letting yourself feel aroused by me, but not so guilty to stop me.” 

“How do you know I wasn’t going to stop you?” I ask, not at all phased by his analysis because I had figured that much out for myself already.

“I can’t be sure how far you were willing to let me go...” He says slowly, looking down at the hand I have covering my lap. “But I would rather be conservative, than for you to have some sort of breakdown.”

“So...” I start, but trail off.

I don’t really know what to say to this. What is Cas trying to tell me?

I can tell by the set of his lips that he isn’t going to elaborate and I roll my eyes at him. 

“Does that mean you’re cool with us just hanging out...or whatever?” I know how stupid that sounds, but there aren’t better words to describe the situation so that’s what comes out of my mouth.

Cas gives me a long, calculated look before nodding slightly. 

“Your company isn’t exactly torturous, and you do add quite a bit to the scenery.”

“Gee, thank Cas.” I roll my eyes again. “So does this make us friends then?”

“No.” Cas doesn’t hesitate to answer. “And I don’t think that’s what you want either Dean.” There is an almost shy expression on his face then and I want to slap myself for thinking something so ridiculous but it’s there and its fucking _adorable_ and I barely hear him when he continues.

“I don’t really do labels, Dean. Friends or... otherwise.”

“I see.” 

Is this his subtle way of saying he doesn’t want to be my boyfriend or something? Because that certainly wasn’t where I thought this was going. So far Cas has filled my sex fantasies, but that is about as far into the future as I’ve gotten. 

“Is that why you said Charlie is _sort of_ your sister?”

“No, I said that because she is not of my blood.”

“Step-sister?”

“No.” He says it almost harshly, like he just wishes I would shut up. I’m surprised he doesn’t just say as much. 

“Well, you are just chalk full of information Cas.”

“Are you only now coming to this realization?” He challenges me, his eyebrows raising slightly.

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s just getting a little old. I mean, I know you like to hold stuff back because it makes you all cool and mysterious or whatever, but how am I supposed to get to know you if you don’t ever answer straight.”

Cas eyes me suspiciously, his face falling slightly to the side as he considers my words. “I wasn’t under the impression that was your intention.”

“What? Getting to know you?” I shrug and put my eyes on the screen again. “I’m not saying I’m committing to anything but, yeah, you know, like you said, your company isn’t exactly _torturous_.”

There is a lift in the corner of Cas’ lips and I can’t help but stare down at them. “And the scenery? How do you enjoy that Dean?”

I chuckle softly and my hand finds Cas’ ankle that is curled up next to my thigh.

“I enjoy the view just fine Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make my day. 
> 
> And my day could use some making.


	14. Pioneer to the Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pioneer to the Falls- Interpol
> 
> **Obviously there are some word for word lines in my story that are from the show. That's on purpose so don't freak out or anything**

I spend Sunday with Charlie at the coffee shop, reading more of Cas’ articles and bothering her as she makes coffee and polite chit-chat with the regulars.

“So, you two are what? Like friends now?” She asks, her body leaning over the side counter that faces the back set of couches.

“He was pretty clear that was definitely not what we are.” I say with a strained grin.

“Dating then?” She has a hopeful expression and I hate to dash it away.

“Not really, no.”

She groans from behind the counter but sees a customer approach and fixes her attitude quickly. I hear her greet the older woman and take her order with a smile on her lips.

I didn’t give Charlie all the details of the previous night, just a basic rundown, which didn’t seem to please her. She begged me for details, but the most she got out of me is that, _yes_ I do know the texture of Cas’ tongue, although I can’t describe it in detail yet.

She giggled for a full minute over that one, before I shut up for good and refused to answer any more questions.

I let myself get lost in Castiel’s words about _speciesism_ , and the opinions of philosophers like Tom Regan. I find plenty of people who share Cas’ view point and read quite a lot from people who disagree completely. No matter what side I read from though, there seems to be a running theme of how poorly so many animals are treated. 

It doesn’t seem fair, to let completely innocent beings with thoughts and emotions of their own, go through such horrible things. Even the ones who are treated “humanely” are still stuck in a cage, no matter how far the walls are away from each other.

“You really getting into it huh?” Charlie calls to me from behind the counter. 

“Uh, yeah.” I say back slowly. “I guess so. I mean, to be honest, I have never really given much thought to this stuff...but he makes a good point, and so do a lot of other people.”

“Yeah, Cas is...passionate, that’s for sure.” She says it carefully, and I take notice that she is holding something back.

“You’re big on animal rights too right?” I ask, a slight blush to my face because I’m bringing up a story she shared during AA, which is kind of uncool, but I take a chance that she won’t mind. “With the whole thing about your foster brother and the cosmetic lab?”

There is a quick flash of caution on her face but it evens out quickly. “Yeah, I used to do a lot of stuff like that.” She shrugs, “Now I’m pretty passive.” 

Charlie is staring at me pretty hard now, and I get the feeling I am supposed to be saying something but nothing comes until-

“Oh!” I say, hitting my forehead like the idiot I am. “Cas is the foster brother! The one you-”

“Took you long enough there.” She interrupts, but smiles kindly. “Sorry I didn’t just say so, but Cas is pretty private and if he didn’t tell you-”

“I get it.” I nod and wave her off. “I just feel stupid for not figuring it out sooner.”

She laughs and heads back to the register to take another order and I’m left with thoughts of Charlie and Cas growing up in foster care together. Cas is probably right around my age, maybe a year or two younger, and Charlie is most likely in her late twenties. I guess the big brother image was pretty on point, although I can’t really picture Cas pulling her pigtails or intimidating Charlie’s first date.

A sweet smile curves my lips as I imagine a much younger version of Charlie, being awesome and proud on the playground. I can just make out the faint lines of an equally younger Cas, but the image is pushed away quickly when Charlie returns.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you, do you have Thanksgiving plans?” 

“Oh, um...” I only hesitate because I completely forgot that Thanksgiving was in a few weeks and I need to make sure the boxes in my house are in the storage room before the renters come in. “No, actually.”

“Great! I mean, not great that you don’t have plans ,but great that you can come to our Friendsgiving.”

“Friendsgiving?”

“Yeah, the girls and I have been doing it for the last couple years. We just get a bunch of our friends together and have a proper Thanksgiving dinner. Most of us don’t have families of our own, or don’t like our families enough to return home.”

“Oh, cool.” I shrug. “Sounds good to me.” I shift in my seat a little too lean closer to the counter. “Actually, do you know of a decent place to stay around here? That weekend is the last group of renters at my beach house and I couldn’t get out of it.”

Charlie scrunches her face. “You mean like a hotel?”

“Yeah, or a motel. I’m not picky- as long as there are no roaches.”

“You’re an idiot Dean.” She shakes her head and picks up the cloth on the counter to begin wiping it down.

“Uh- so does that mean you don’t know of a place or...?”

“You’re staying with me, stupid.” She rolls her eyes and turns to the espresso machine to give it a proper wipe down as well.

“I am?” I ask more out of amusement than confusion, because of course Charlie would let me stay with her. 

Once again, I am an idiot.

“Yes.” She smiles over her shoulder. “Now don’t you have some things to do other than stalk my brother? Like say...maybe go see my brother?”

“Subtle, Charlie. Real subtle.” 

She just shrugs and gives me a coy smile. 

“Well, I actually do have some things to do around the house, to prepare it for renters.”

“You mean, overnight guests?” There is a wiggle in her eyebrows and I roll my eyes.

“You have like, _zero_ cool.”

“I’m the coolest and you know it.” She flicks the wash cloth at me even though I am out of distance.

“Right.” I pack up my laptop and make my way over to the counter to say goodbye. 

“You coming back for the meeting tonight?” She says it casually, like my answer isn’t that big of a deal, which I appreciate.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.”

Her face brightens noticeably. “Awesome.” 

“See ya Charlie.” I say it over my shoulder and head for the exit. I don’t turn around when Charlie yells after me.

“Say hello to Cas for me!”

***

Going through the boxes of stuff I shared with Lisa isn’t nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. There were a few times I stopped to linger over a photo album or shed a few tears at a memory a particular knick-knack brought up, but overall it wasn’t an awful experience. 

I take out what I want to put around the house, a few pictures of us, the one of my parents, and some of me and Bobby and Ellen. I also pull out some books and put them on the bookshelves. I leave the rest of the stuff in boxes and open up the storage room with the key the realtor gave me. 

It takes me a moment to realize what it is I’m seeing inside the room. 

There is a single box inside, with my mother’s name on it. It is pushed to the back and sitting under an old slab of carpet, so I can see why it was missed the last time I was here, packing stuff up after my parents died. 

I bring the boxes I intend to leave in the storage room inside, and pull the one with my mother’s name on it out. I don’t know why I want to torture myself, but apparently I do, so I take a deep breath and open up the box. 

Inside, there are a bunch of medals and trophies that I realize fairly quickly, didn’t belong to my mother. I always wondered where they kept Sam’s stuff, and here it is, just punching me in the face. 

My breath hitches, and I can feel tears beginning to form, but I keep moving things around in the box, getting a better feel for what is inside. There are a few albums I am sure contain nothing but pictures of Sam and I am definitely not feeling suicidal tonight so I save those for another time. 

Something at the bottom of the box catches my eye though, and my heart probably stops as I realize what it is. 

I immediately recognize the ornately embossed swirls that cover the spine of the journal my mother kept when I was a kid, and it taunts me from the bottom of the box. 

I don’t know why I pick it up, and I understand even less why I open it to the year I chose to open it to. 

I must want to challenge that suicidal theory, or perhaps my sobriety. 

My mother’s neat script jumps out at me immediately, and I let out a whimper that a lesser man may not admit to.

_It’s been nearly a year, and I still can’t look at him._

_I know he is my son, and that I should love him no matter his faults, but this...this is too difficult to look past. The choices he has made, the person he has chosen to be- that’s what killed my little boy._

_Not the fire, not the alcohol he was drunk on._

_It was Dean._

I slam the journal shut and throw it violently into the box. 

I don’t want to read any more.

I don’t want to know anymore.

I don’t want to think. 

I know what I want, and despite the fact that it’s the last thing I need, I go in search for it anyway.

***

“Where is your whiskey?” I barge into Cas’ house the moment he answers the door, pushing past him without a second thought.

“Cabinet next to the fridge.” He answers easily, like I just asked him where I could find a box of tissues.

He does follow me into the kitchen though, and I can feel his eyes on me as I pull the bottle from the cabinet and uncork it. I stare down at the bottle for a full second before bringing it to my mouth. 

Right before I tip it up, Castiel’s voice cuts me off.

“Should I be stopping you?” He says it with a slight note of concern, but his expression is more confused than anything else. 

“Probably, but if I wanted someone to stop me I would have gone to Gabe.” I turn the bottle up, and let the liquid fall into my throat. 

As soon as the sting hits me though, I am spitting it out, and cursing wildly.

“Right.” Castiel says, moving towards me and pulling the bottle out of my hands. “Stopping you, then.”

“Fuck!” I slam my hand against the fridge because it’s the only thing my body is capable of at the moment, and I relish in the pain that shoots up my arm.

“Do you want to elaborate on that?” When I look back at Cas, the bottle of whiskey is nowhere in sight and I am both murderous and grateful for it.

“No.” I say immediately, even though I can already feel my lips beginning to spill the secrets I have been desperate to keep.

“I read my mother’s diary.” The words are almost spit from my mouth, and my hands find the back of my neck. I pull on it, trying desperately to receive some sort of physical release for all the emotion pushing at my edges.

“Scandalous.” Cas says it like a joke, but his eyes are hard on me.

I growl but keep going. “She said some shit in it about me...and Sam, and I just...I can’t deal.”  
“Sam.” Castiel repeats, no emotion in his voice. “Your brother...Sam.”

“Yes.” 

No point in holding anything back. Shit already hit the fan the moment I walked in here demanding alcohol.

“What did your mother say about Sam that has you...not dealing?”

“How she really felt about everything, how much she blamed me....” I murmur, delaying the inevitable for seconds longer.

Castiel just looks at me a moment, giving me one last moment of living with this secret before probing further. “Why would your mother blame you for Sam’s death?” 

I start yelling before I know what I’m even saying.

“Because I killed my brother Cas! I killed my brother and my mom wrote all about how much she hated me for it, not that I didn’t already know that but reading it is kind of a shotgun to the head you know?”

“You murdered your brother?” He says it as a fact, with only a slight inflection at the end.

“No. Fuck, no Cas- there was a fire. I was drunk, as per usual, and I left him in there to burn when I got out. I forgot he was in there...mom and dad were out for the night. So, yeah I killed him. Murder...whatever, he is dead and it’s my fault.”

“I see.” Cas just stares at me for a long moment before looking down at his shoes that I see are untied. In fact, now that I take a second to look at him without the haze of my mission to drink dulling everything around me, Cas is dressed rather strangely. 

He is wearing all black, and his shoes are a pair of industrial black boots. He has a utility belt around his waist and there is a note of fear in his eyes when they look back to mine and see my questioning gaze.

He swallows hard, and bends down to tie his shoes, carefully avoiding my eyes again.

When he looks back up, his expression has lost the caution I saw before, and he takes a step forward. “Let me ask you something Dean.”

My mind is reeling, jumping from bank robbing scenarios to being rolled up in an ugly Persian rug and thrown into the bay for having seen Cas like this. I don’t know what to say, so I just nod my head a bit.

When he speaks, he tilts his head to the side in a way that I have come to find endearing, but his words make absolutely no sense.

“How important is lipstick to you?”


	15. Daisy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daisy- Brand New (For both Cas and Dean- this song is mostly seen as an affront to religion but i think it can be used for any situation where your entire world gets upended and you are forced to make a decision that can change things or you can keep your head in the sand.)
> 
>  
> 
> ***Thank you all so much for your comments! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and makes me want to rush to my computer to keep busting out chapters! You guys are the best :) ***

“Come again?”

“Lipstick.” Cas repeats, his tone slightly on edge. “What does it mean to you Dean?”

I try to put the words together in many different ways and possible meanings but absolutely nothing is registering. I stare back at Cas with a look I’m sure looks a combination of confusion and emotional exhaustion, and eventually just let out a loud sigh. 

There is no point in trying to understand Cas when he is being purposefully vague. 

“Very little.” I reply, a hand going up to rub down my face because, despite how grateful I am for this distraction, I am still extremely overwhelmed by my own shit and don’t really want to deal with whatever this is.

There is little to no reaction to my answer.

“And how strong is your opposition to committing federal crimes?”

Shit.

“Uh...”

What the hell do I say to that? What in God’s name is Cas up to?

“Cas-”

“Just answer the question Dean.” Cas says impatiently. Now I want to throw the nearest object at him because he’s got a lot of balls asking a question like that and then getting all huffy about me taking a second to think about it.

“Jesus Cas, is this a hypothetical thing or-”

“If that makes you feel better, then sure. _Hypothetically_ , under what circumstances would you be willing to break the law.”

“That’s a completely different question.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head and I have to remind myself that I actually barely know this guy despite my growing attachment to him, and he could be capable of some serious shit, going by his personality alone.

“Yes, Cas, it is.” I answer back defiantly.

“Hmm.” He stares at me for a moment, eyes squinting in concentration and what I assume to be some sort of analysis. “I don’t see the difference.”

“Of course you don’t.” I shake my head and rub my face again, letting out another sigh that I hope makes him feel the slightest bit bad because his antics are just _not helping_.

I decide to just roll with it though, because I know in the long run, there is probably a very good reason Cas is asking me this. Especially considering his wardrobe for the evening. 

“I guess, it would depend.” I finally say. “I mean, if there is a good reason or if it was to help someone- you know?”

“What is your definition of _’someone’_?”

“Uh...a person? Or I guess maybe an animal too. I’ve been reading your-”

“Great.” Cas interrupts me. “Would you like to accompany me on an errand this evening?”

“An errand?” I ask, doubt written all over my face.

“Yes.” He says back confidently.

I take a pointed look at his attire and gesture towards it. “An errand.”

“That’s what I said.” Cas looks like he is confused by my hesitation, but I know better.

“You’re going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that if you want me going anywhere with you, Cas.”

Cas eyes me for a second, and then his shoulders slump and he is sighing into his exaggerated eye roll. “I had hoped you would just agree, considering your heightened emotional state.”

“You trying to manipulate me into breaking the law with you?”

“Not manipulate, exactly. I figured you needed a distraction, and I happen to unexpectedly need assistance tonight.”

“With what exactly?” He opens his mouth to speak but I hold my hand up to stop him. “And if you say ‘An errand’, I’m walking out the door right now.”

Cas clamps his mouth shut quickly. It takes him a full minute before he basically stamps his foot and grunts my name. 

“Dean. My time to debate this with you is limited. Can we talk about this on the way?”

“Cas, I ain’t doing shit until you come clean.”

“I will answer your questions in the car.” Cas says hurriedly. “And I won’t involve you in anything if you say no.”

I think about that for a moment, and think really hard about what the worst possible outcome of this evening could be. Despite his colorful personality, I don’t really think Cas is capable of doing anything violent. I also don’t think he would do anything to put me in any danger, since he seems to at least, _kind of_ , like me. 

“You have to answer all my questions.” I finally say. 

“Fine.” Cas answers back, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I mean all of them Cas. None of that, half answer, vague bullshit.”

“Alright.” 

I am surprised to get such a quick assent from him, so I decide to push my luck a little bit.

“And not just about this ‘errand’ either. If I’m going to trust you on this, you’ve got to answer all my questions. About whatever I want.”

Cas’ face falls and he regards me suspiciously for a moment before replying,

“Twenty-four hours.”

“A week.” I counter, stepping forward and away from the kitchen counter.

“Two days.” He snaps back, also taking a step forward.

“Four days, and you can’t avoid me.” I say it slowly, my heartbeat picking up a notch as I step into his space. I don’t know what’s moving me forward, but it’s kind of impossible to stop and Cas keeps meeting me step for step.

He is right in front of me now, and there is the smell of cigarette smoke in my nose, but I don’t care at the moment because he takes another step forward and his face is so damn close.

How did this happen? How did we get so close, so fast? Where did all of this tension come from?

That’s a stupid question, and I know it. 

The sexual tension between us is kind of a constant thing that surrounds us, whether we are around each other or not. Just thinking about Cas makes my blood rush faster in my veins and my skin prickle in anticipation.

His breath his hot on my lips when he finally speaks.

“Three days, and I get one pass.” 

It’s better than I am expecting, so I agree without hesitation.

“Fine.”

I swallow back the rushing feeling that urges me to push forward and seal this deal with a bruising kiss. 

It’s not exactly the perfect time to start exploring Cas’ mouth.

He seems to agree, because after just another moment of eye sex, Cas steps back and turns around abruptly. He walks over to the small table next to his kitchen and picks up the rolled up papers that sit there. He tucks them under his arm and heads for the front door.

He doesn’t turn back around to face me when he regards me again. “You’re driving.”

 

***

“I don’t see why we couldn’t just take my car.” I whine, shifting in the van’s bucket seats and hating the feeling. “I feel like an adulterer.”

“More than you did the other night?” Cas says back quickly.

I am so not in the mood for his sass, but I let it go with just an eye roll and an irritated sigh.

We have been on the road for about five minutes now, and I am still trying to formulate the right questions.

“Alright _dick_ , time to fess up.” I say. “Lay it on me.”

Even in the evening’s darkness I can see Cas’ eyebrow quirk up. 

“Oh hush, you know what I mean.” I chastise. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I said I would answer questions, not give you a play-by-play.”

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” I ask, even though I know he couldn’t be more serious.

“No.” He is on his phone, texting or writing out something, and I find it infuriating.

“You’re something else, you know that Cas?”

“Yes.” 

I want to scream and throw my elbow across the car and into the passenger seat, but I realize that would be a bit extreme and probably just a carry-over from my freak out earlier.

“Fine.” I grit through my teeth. “Where are we going right now?”

“To pick up the others.” He is still looking down at his phone, his voice impassive.

“What others?”

“The other members of my garrison.”

He is answering my questions but I am no closer to understanding what the hell is going on.

“What _the fuck_ is a garrison?”

“Soldiers.” He says simply. “Or in our case, just a group of people banding together to defend the defenseless.”

The word _soldiers_ puts me on edge and I am starting to rethink the whole violence thing.

“Are you going to hurt anyone?”

“No.” Cas looks up at me for a second and then back down to his phone. “At least not physically. There are economic repercussions to our actions.”

“Which are what exactly?”

“Take your next right, then turn left and park next to the oak tree.” He instructs.

I do as he says, and wait for him to answer my question.

“My group...” He says slowly, looking out his window. “Have you heard of the Animal Liberation Front, Dean?”

That has me jerking my hands slightly, because _yes_ I have heard of that group. I stumbled upon it on my research into animal rights, and I remember thinking that it was kind of bad ass. I thought it was cool that anyone who did things to help animals could call themselves a member, as long their actions didn’t hurt anyone. Of course, most of the things being committed are crimes, but from what I could tell, they were all necessary evils.

“Yeah, actually, I have.” I answer smoothly. “That what we’re doing here, Cas? We liberating some animals?”

Cas looks at me sharply and then turns slowly back towards the window. “That’s not all we do, but tonight, yes. That is the plan.”

I pull up to where Cas told me to park and there are two men waiting underneath the oak tree. One is tall, possibly taller than myself and built like a rock. His skin is as dark as the night and he is wearing a hard expression on his face. If I am to be completely honest with myself, the guy kind of scares the shit out of me. The man next to him is leaner, almost skinny, and about my height. He has blonde hair and a confident smirk on his face. 

They standup, picking up a few bags with them, and walk over to the van with little hesitation.

“Friends of yours Cas?”

“No.” He answers simply and steps out of the van and closes the door behind him. 

I can’t hear what is being said, but I can see the expression on scary guy’s face and it kind of makes me want to drive away with the tail pipe between my legs. The other one just looks amused by whatever Cas is saying to them, and shrugs before walking around Cas, and opening the back door to the van. He puts the bags he was carrying inside and then climbs in after them.

“Dean, is it?” His British accent coats each syllable and it’s kind of hot, but something about him is more irritating than attractive. “I’m-

“Balthazar!” There is a yell from behind him and the scary guy looks like he might rage out on us. “Don’t be stupid enough to give this guy your real name.”

“Uh...” Balthazar turns his head around with a roll of his eyes. “I wasn’t going to _Uriel_ , pipe down would you?”

He turns back to me and takes a seat in one of the side seats of the van. “Ignore him, his temperament is a reflection on how often his dick gets wet.”

Cas makes his way back into the front seat and gives me a look that says, ‘You good?’

I shrug and nod at the same time, hoping he understand that I have no idea what to feel at the moment, but I’m not exactly freaking out about the situation. 

Maybe if I wasn’t already slightly insane this evening, I would be thinking a little clearer about this, but right now all I can keep straight is that I am about to go rescue some poor abused animals, and that sits pretty well with me. 

“I don’t see why we couldn’t have called Raphael, Castiel.” Uriel says in a gruff voice.

“Dean was there.” Cas answered back simply, not at all phased by the scary guy’s tone.

“What’s your code name Cas?” I find myself blurting out.

He gives me a look like he is regretting sort of sticking up for me, but then I see a little smile at the corner of his mouth. “Seraph.”

I am pretty sure I recognize the other names as belonging to Angels, but I haven’t heard of the name Cas goes by.

“How come you don’t get an angel name like them?” 

He shrugs and looks away, but I clear my throat to remind him of our deal. When he looks back at me, I make sure to be wearing my sweetest cocky smile.

Cas lets out a sigh. “Head west. We’re taking 404.”

I raise my eyebrows at him expectantly, but I put the car in drive and do as I’m told.

He rewards me with an answer.

“My name is already the name of an angel. That is how the rest of my garrison chose their names." He continues with a school teacher's tone, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't turn me on a bit. "A seraph is an angel of high regard, and since I am the leader of our group, that name was chosen for me.”

“Interesting.” I say, with a click of my tongue.

“Very.” Balthazar teases from the backseat. “You know Castiel, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you put more than five words together when we weren’t in the middle of a job.”  
Cas doesn’t say anything to that, and I don’t even see a sign that he heard Balthazar, but I’m sure he does.

I smile to myself as I drive the van west on 404.

I like that I’ve seen a side of Cas that not many others do. It gives me this powerful feeling, and I find myself itching to get rid of the guys in the back seat so I can spend some more time alone with him, figuring him out.

It’s another twenty minutes before Cas is telling me to get off of the main road and I follow his directions to what looks like an industrial park. He tells me to pull the van up to a service entrance around back, and I do so without a second thought.

I do have a scrolling marquee going across my head that is yelling at me about how bad an idea this is, and that I’m about to break the law, but I try to dim it with thoughts of how great it will feel to know I helped free some tortured animals. 

My hands are fidgeting in my lap after I park the van, and I watch in the rearview mirror as Uriel and Balthazar unzip the bags they brought with them. I can see them pull out some electronic thing that looks like something I saw in a Mission Impossible movie once, and my heart begins to hammer in my chest.

This is happening. 

I am about to be a criminal.

An hour ago I was just going to get drunk and maybe get to second base with Cas.

Five hours ago I was planning Thanksgiving dinner and promising to attend an AA meeting that I will definitely be missing now.

And now I am watching two strangers, and one man I am aggressively trying not to fall for, prepare their spy technology for an animal heist.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Is this who I am now?

My eyes are trained on Balthazar and Uriel getting their equipment together, so I don’t see Cas reach across and place his hand over mine.

It makes me jump slightly in my seat, and when I look down at his hand, it looks foreign draped over mine. 

But the more I stare at it the more I realize how much I really, _really_ like it.

“The neon sign on my forehead blinking again?” I ask quietly, hoping the others don’t hear me.

“Something like that.” He returns, a guarded smile finding his lips. “If you would prefer-”

“No, it’s fine. I want to help.” 

And it’s true, I do want to help. I can’t say I would have come up with something like this on my own, and I certainly don’t see myself planning anything like this out in the future, but for tonight- yeah, I want to do this.

“Alright.”  
“What exactly are you going to be doing in there?” I ask, as close to a whisper as I can manage so as not to spook Uriel.

Cas doesn’t hesitate to answer me this time. “This is a cosmetics lab. There are animals inside that need to be freed.”

“Where will you put them? You know, after?”

“There should be-” He cuts himself off as another van pulls up beside ours. He motions towards it. “Another group will take them to their new homes.”

“I see.” I nod and Cas pulls his hand back just as Balthazar leans towards us. I can tell he noticed our exchange though, and my face gets hot at his salacious smile.

“You ready Castiel? Or do you two need a minute?” 

I grunt at that, but Cas doesn’t respond at all. He just looks at me with a calculating stare.

“Stay in the van. We will be back in under twenty minutes.” He gestures towards the steering wheel. “If there is some reason to believe we are about to get caught, you go.”

“What?” I can’t agree to that shit. No man left behind and all that.

“It is how we operate. We can’t do what needs to be done if we are in prison. The more people out there, the more wrongs are righted.”

“Cas-”

“If you can’t follow simple instructions, I suggest you leave now.” Uriel’s voice booms from the back of the van and I do my best not to show how close I am to pissing my pants.

I turn on him with my most _don’t fuck with me_ stare, and lock eyes with him. After a moment, he just shakes his head and gets out of the van. I’m feeling pretty damn good about myself when I turn back to Cas, who is wearing a glimmer of what looks a lot like pride in his eyes.

Damn right.

“Alright?” Cas asks me, reminding me that I have yet to agree to his terms.

Ultimately, I decide it’s best to just tell him yes, and deal with things as they come. Hopefully it will be a nonissue.

“Okay Cas.”

He gives me a look I can’t quite read. His eyes flick down to my lips, and I think for a millisecond that he is about to lay one on me, but then he is out of the van, and Balthazar is too.

The doors slam and I am left alone, waiting in silence for them to return.


	16. You Ain't Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You Ain't Alone- Alabama Shakes

_“I can’t say I’m not, at least, a little bit turned on by this.”_

_“Mouth shut Dean.” Lisa comes around the counter at the police station and grabs the bag of her personal belongings from the officer._

_“Now, now- It’s not every day I get to bail my wife out of jail.” I smile widely and put my arm around her as we make our way towards the exit. “Let me enjoy this.”_

_“You’re hilarious. Really.” She is trying to sound annoyed at me, but I know her tone is mostly directed at herself._

_I lead us to my car and wait to give her the third degree until we are inside._

_“What happened Lis?”_

_She lets out a loud sigh and starts scrubbing at her inked fingers with a tissue. “It was stupid. Some of the people in my group got a little handsy with the cops and it went south pretty quickly.” She shrugged. “I stayed out of it for the most part but I got pulled in anyway. It really was no big deal.”_

_“Why are you with people who are going to start shit?”_

_I can feel my anger rising. I don’t like that Lisa is picketing with people who are likely to get violent. I have never been the overprotective type because Lisa and most of the women in my life have proven that they can handle themselves just fine, but I still don’t like the idea of my wife getting into fights._

_“They weren’t supposed to.” She says defensively. “I mean, it’s not like I have some sort of power to keep everyone in line. Tempers run hot at rallies sometimes, shit happens.”_

_“Well I don’t like ‘shit happening’ when you’re there.” I sigh and start the car. “I mean, what if you had gotten hurt Lisa?”_

_“I didn’t, so don’t worry about it.” She lays her hand on my arm to soothe me, but the whole situation has me more pissed off, than the teensy bit aroused I was earlier. Although the jailbird fantasies have yet to make their exit._

_“I just don’t see why you would put yourself in a situation like that willingly. It doesn’t make any sense.”_

_She looks sad when I look over at her, before pulling out of the parking space outside of the police station._

_“You’d understand if you were there Dean.” She says slowly. “You’d get it if you cared enough about something to want to fight for it.”_

 

***

 

I run through that memory a few times while I wait for Cas and the others to make their way back to the van. 

It pushes thoughts of Lisa to the front of my mind, and I begin to feel guilty about my almost lapse in sobriety. I’d like to think it was guilt or common sense that snapped me out of my crazed state earlier, but I honestly believe it was just the harsh tasting whiskey on the back of my throat that did it. It has been years since I tasted something that strong, and it basically forced me to wake up to what I was doing.

Lisa would have been extremely disappointed in me if I had chosen to chase the bottle instead of Cas tonight. Even gone, her opinion of me matters. If there is some off chance that she is actually watching me, then I want to be sure I make choices that would make her proud. It’s the least I can do for fourteen years of marriage, and saving me from myself all those years ago.

I wonder how she would feel about me being here right now, playing animal rescuer with Cas and his group of soldiers, or whatever he called them. I don’t really know how she would feel about the Cas part specifically, but I think she would be pretty pleased with my decision to help out with what he and his guys are doing. Even though it’s technically illegal, and Lisa was always pretty adamant about doing things within the confines of the law, I think she would be proud of me. She always wanted me to give a damn about something, and, _yeah_ , I kind of just stumbled into this, but I find myself caring a lot more about our goal tonight than I thought I would.. If fact, there is a piece of me that kind of wishes I was inside doing the liberating myself. 

As far as Cas goes, I know Lisa would want me to be happy, but I don’t know if Cas is the person she would choose for me to pursue that with. Lisa wouldn’t have cared that he is a man, she always knew about my penchant for both sexes. But I do wonder if she would worry about his lifestyle and general personality. There are moments that I hear her voice telling me to tread lightly, whenever Cas says something that makes the hair on my neck stand at full attention.

I don’t know if I am just channeling her when those thoughts enter my mind though, or if maybe they are really fears of my own. 

Cas is unlike anyone I have ever met before, and its possible being with him in any capacity would be a very bad idea, but I am at the point where I can’t _not_ know. Ever since his little experiment last night, I’ve allowed myself to think about him whenever I want, and I haven’t felt nearly as horrible about that as I did before. 

There is still this feeling that Lisa is watching me, and that if I move too quickly with Cas it will be like I’m forgetting her or something, but after a few close calls, my body is telling me to go for it, and maybe just keep things PG-13 for now.

I want to follow my instincts on this one and they are telling me to test the waters a little. Kissing I think I could definitely get on board with now, beyond that I’m not really sure. 

I find myself drifting to scenarios in which those water get tested nice, and slow, and wet, and-

The van next to ours is suddenly going backwards, practically peeling out of the parking spot and burning rubber to get out of the lot. 

I blink a few times as I catch up to what is happening and follow the van’s exit with my eyes. 

I am at a complete loss as to what I should do but I don’t have time to think anything through, because it isn’t a full minute later before a black SUV pulls into the lot and parks on the side of the building. From where our van is sitting, whoever is in the SUV can definitely see it here, but probably not me in the driver’s seat.

Something inside me tells me something is _very_ wrong, and that I should probably be doing that thing where I get my ass out of here like Cas wanted me to, but I can’t do anything but stare at the new arrival. 

The side door of the SUV opens, and a man steps out. He is too far away for me to notice anything more than his light skin and short blonde hair, but there is something about him that unnerves me immediately. Maybe it’s the way he carries himself, like there is an entire planet on his shoulders and he alone is capable of bearing it.

A woman joins him a few seconds later and hands him what looks like a glass bottle. He is holding something else in his other hand and I can’t quite make-

In an instant I am out of the car and running towards the building. 

The door Cas entered is slightly ajar and I duck inside easily. 

It occurs to me that I don’t have a clue about where they are, or if there is some sort of security measure I should be skirting, but I don’t have time to think about it. 

I move.

I run towards what looks like a flashlight beam down the hall. I keep by body low to the ground and my face almost completely ducked into my chest, in case there are cameras. I don’t know what makes me think to do this, but it seems right.

I can hear whispers and sounds of animals scurrying in their cages as I approach the flashlight beams. When I make it to the room the light is coming from, I crouch lower around the corner, just in case I’m wrong, and I’m about to walk in on the wrong thing. 

“This one, help me with the-” Someone is whispering and it sounds like Balthazar so I stand up.

“Hey!” I half whisper, half yell. “This place is about to go up. We need to go!”

All three men nearly jump out of their skin at my warning, and I notice they are in the middle of getting a rabbit out of its cage. Balthazar is holding two, and Cas is in the middle of grabbing what looks to be the last one when they look over to me.

“Dean!” Cas hisses. “What-”

“No time, _seriously_ , we gotta go!” I make a rolling motion with my arm and urge them to move. 

It doesn’t take but another second before they all seem to get with the program and start moving their asses. I lead the way back out the door I came in, but I only get about half way down the hallway before an explosion goes off somewhere else in the building, and we all get knocked on our asses.

There is smoke filling my lungs and stars in my eyes but I am conscious and moving as quickly as I can to my feet. I see Balthazar struggling to regain control of the two rabbits he had in his possession before the bomb went off, and I scoop one of them off the floor as I look for Cas. 

He is helping Uriel to his feet, and holding the third rabbit close to his body. 

Confident that Cas is okay, I run towards the exit. 

It takes less than a minute before we are all outside and piling into the van. I am throwing the van into reverse and looping around the other side of the building seconds later, avoiding the SUV on the other side. 

“What the _FUCK_ was that?” I hear Uriel screaming in the back, as soon as we are clear of the building. “Castiel told you to go, he told you not to-”

“Are you fucking kidding me Uriel?” Balthazar says back, nearly out of breath. “He saved our asses and you’re going to throw a tantrum about it?”

I look back to give him an appreciative glance and notice there are a few cuts along his face, as well as a bruise forming around his eye.

“I don’t care if he saved an entire species, he didn’t follow orders! We run things this way for a reason-”

“Hey, you know what? You’re welcome big guy.” I yell back to him, trying to keep my eyes on the road and my heart in my chest. “I’m flattered by your gratitude, really- 

Castiel’s voice interrupts me and I’m startled by how calm it sounds. 

“Uriel, Dean disobeyed my command, but he is not a part of this garrison. Your reaction is unwarranted.” 

“Castiel what are we going to do about this? Not only does he know more than he should without actually being one of us, now he has seen Lucifer and his demons or whatever they are calling themselves these days.”

That perks my interest right quick and my eyes are wide and darting to Castiel as I mouth the name ‘Lucifer.’”

When I don’t get a response I take a glance at Balthazar over my shoulder. “Who the hell is Lucifer?”

“He used to-” Balthazar starts, but Cas cuts him off.

“Enough.” 

Cas says it so quietly I am surprised Balthazar can hear him, but he does, and his mouth closes immediately. 

I’m absolutely amazed at how quickly he shuts up, and just how much authority Cas seems to have. Both men are obviously waiting for Castiel to say something else, but he never does. 

It’s intimidating. But also incredibly sexy.

The rest of the ride back to the oak tree is relatively silent. By the time I am pulling up and putting the car in park, no one has said a word about what happened back at the lab.

“So...” I start, unsure of how to ask the most pressing question on my mind. “Anyone want to tell me what the hell happened back there?”

Balthazar and Uriel both look at Cas, who shakes his head minutely. 

Balthazar doesn’t looked pleased, in fact, he looks down right traitorous. “Castiel, if he is going to be joining us, he should know about Luc-”

Castiel’s hand flies up and Balthazar’s mouth snaps shut. “You two should go. Take the rabbits with you and bring them to Anna.”

“Casti-” Uriel tries to get a word in, but he is interrupted as well.

“No.” Castiel says calmly. “Dean is not joining us. This was a one-time thing. I will handle this.”

Uriel doesn’t need to be told twice and he is out the back of the van, with two of the rabbits in his arms. 

“I’m sorry you couldn’t get the rest of the animals.” I say to Balthazar, who gives me a half-smile.

“I appreciate what you did Dean.” He says to me quietly. “But you need to be careful.”

That only sends a few dozen shivers down my spine, and I look to Cas to get some sort of sign that I should blow Balthazar’s warning off.

I don’t get one.

Instead, I get what I can only describe as an even more ominous warning, located in the pulled lines on Cas’ forehead.

He looks _worried._

If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t think that was strange. We did just escape a rain of Molotov cocktails, and by the way it went down, it looks like whoever they usually work with to trade the animals off with sold them out. 

But something about Cas, and what little I know about him, doesn’t make me think he would feel as much worry as I see on his face.

“Be careful about what?” I ask, looking at Cas instead of Balthazar.

When Cas just stares back at me instead of answering, I am about to remind him of our little deal but his moving lips cuts me off.

“Goodnight Balthazar.” He doesn’t look at the other man, his eyes stay locked on me.

If I wasn’t kind of scared shitless at the moment, I may find Cas’ dominance extremely arousing, but I can’t get past _what the fuck is going on_ long enough to let myself enjoy it. 

I do make a note though.

The very next chance I get, I’m going to kiss the fuck out of this man’s face.

***

I want to bombard Cas with questions the moment we are alone in the van, but I hold off until we are back to his place. He is quiet on the ride home, but not the normal kind of Cas quiet, it’s more an eerie silence that makes me feel like I’m in the eye of a storm. 

By the time we are walking up to his front door, I can’t decide if I should just call it a night now and get in my car, or head inside and take whatever is about to be thrown at me. 

When Cas doesn’t hesitate outside of the van, and leads the way into the house, my body follows without a command to do so. 

Once we are inside, I am just beginning to formulate a battle plan for the night, when I am nearly thrown off my feet and pushed into the front door. 

For a second I think maybe I’m finally about to get kissed senseless, but the moment my eyes meet Cas’ I know that is not the case.

“What _the hell_ were you thinking?” Cas’ teeth are clenched together, and he is leaning so far into my face that I feel his spit on my cheeks. 

My head is spinning because, _what the fuck?_ “Cas-” I try to get out, but then his hands are on the lapels of my jacket and pushing me farther into the door and I have no idea what to think but, _shit_. My hands are by my side and completely frozen because I can’t even begin to think about what I would do with them.

“I told you to go! I told you to leave us!” Cas is seething, every vein in his face is popping and I am just about to piss myself, when I remember who _I_ am.

I am not some piss ant that just takes things lying down.

Cas may do things to me that no one has ever done to me before, but that doesn’t mean I can’t stand up to him just as I would anyone else.

I use my suddenly reanimated hands and slam them against Cas’ shoulders. He goes flying backwards and stumbles into the middle of the living room. 

I am prepared to defend myself against another attack, but Cas just rights himself and then locks eyes with me.

I have definitely never been looked at this way, and I have no idea how to describe it, but I am positive I am not seeing just anger. The worry from before still lines his face, and there is something so close to _fear_ in his eyes that it makes me relax my stance a little.

“You want to start over Cas?” I say it with what little bit of intimidation I can muster at the moment, but it seems to do the trick because Cas is taking a step back and throwing his hand over his face.

“Fuck!” He yells and I jump a little. “This wasn’t-” He stops himself and I take a step forward. My arm wants to go forward and put my hand on his shoulder, but I resist the urge because I don’t know how that would be received.

Cas takes a deep breath and starts again. “I miscalculated. It won’t happen again.”

“Miscalculated what?” I ask, carefully keeping my voice even.

He gives me a blank stare. It looks like he has no intention of answering my question, and I am having absolutely _none_ of that bullshit tonight.

“No way Cas.” I waggle my fingers at him. “Out with it. A deal is a deal.”

Cas stares back at me, a hard expression on his face. “What is your question, exactly?”

I think about that for a second. There are a bunch of things I want to know but it seems like they all revolve around the guy they called Lucifer. I decide to start there.

“Who is Lucifer?”

I can see Cas’ eyes go wider for a split second before he is righting them again and licking his lips. His expression changes subtly at first, and then dramatically. He now wears the same cocky look he wore the night we met, and his body starts to move. He takes slow steps forward to stand right in front of me, and suddenly I can’t breathe properly. 

He definitely notices my own shift, because his infuriating little smirk creeps onto his lips, and if I wasn’t waiting for him to answer my question, I would probably make my move and kiss that stupid smirk off his face.

Cas leans forward, just enough to feel the stubble on his cheek, on my own. 

When he speaks, his breath is hot and seductive in my ear, but it doesn’t hide the slight hitch in his voice.

“Pass.”

 

Son of a bitch.

 

I know he can hear the little noise my throat makes when he refuses to answer the question, but I don’t try to stifle the second one that comes after his hand starts moving up my arm.

I also know I should be pissed that he is using his one pass for something obviously really important, but I can’t seem to give a shit at the moment.

My mind wipes of everything that isn’t Cas currently pushing my jacket off of my shoulders, and onto the floor. 

The sound it makes when it drops to the floor spurs me to action, and my hands go up to Cas’ face and grip it tightly. I bring him back so I can look at him, and I am pleasantly surprised to find him looking startled, rather than arrogant. 

Wanting to ride the feeling of catching Cas off guard, I pull his face to mine and seal our mouths together.

I revel in the near _whimper_ that escapes his mouth, and surge forward, moving one of my hands down to his hips and pulling him against me, to keep us from falling. Cas’ lips are pliant undermine, soft and full and they feel positively perfect against my own. 

It takes him a second, but Cas is responding eagerly, one hand at the back of my neck and pulling it towards him and the other slipping down to the crest of my ass. I pull back just enough to kiss him again and then I’m licking into his mouth because _Jesus Christ_ he tastes amazing. 

He must not have smoked recently because there is only the slightest flavor of cigarettes in his mouth, and whatever it is that makes Cas, _Cas_ , is what I taste the most. It’s earthy, and intoxicating and I have never wanted a drink less than I do right now. 

I move my tongue across his, in strong but controlled stokes, and he moves his along with mine. Our hips are pressed together so tightly, my belt buckle has to be digging into Cas stomach, but he doesn’t shift. 

Thinking about Cas’ stomach reminds me of what I’ve been waiting to get my hands on for weeks, and I move my hand on his hip to under his shirt, and trace along the skin of his hip bone. 

That earns me a sound most similar to a growl, and then we are moving towards the couch and I take this opportunity to get Cas out of his jacket as well. We fall gracelessly to the couch , and then Cas is on top of me and kissing me wildly. It’s like kissing me is the only thing he has wanted to do his entire life, and now he gets to do it, and its _fucking amazing_. 

I am ducking my hands down his back and into the pocket of his jeans before I can tell myself to stop, and Cas’ hips grind down into mine. 

I see stars as my erection finds friction against Cas’, and I am suddenly very aware of where this is leading and how much I really didn’t intend for this to happen. 

I mean, the kiss was definitely past due, but this- _oh god_ this, am I ready for this?

The fact that I am even thinking about it rather than enjoying the way Cas has moved his mouth to my neck, and is currently kissing his way down to my collar bone, should tell me that maybe I should hit the brakes here.

I’ve never actually stopped sexual activity before. I mean I have stopped when my partners have wanted to, but I have never gotten this far and wanted to stop myself, so I have no idea what I am doing when I reach up and pull at Cas’ hair. 

This does nothing to deter him, in fact, it eggs him on and suddenly Cas’ hands are snaking up under my shirt and up my stomach and _holy fuck_ pitching my nipple. If I don’t stop right now I won’t, and I have no idea how I will feel about that in the morning.

I want him, _God_ I want Cas, but I don’t want to fuck this up and I really don’t want to sleep with him and then hate myself for it.

“ _Cas_.” It comes out far more like a moan than I want it to, but such is my current physical state, and I need to try again because he just moans against my earlobe as he sucks it into his mouth and rolls his hips into mine again.

This time, I say it less like I’m asking him to swallow me down, and more like I need him to stop right the fuck now. “Cas!”

This gets his attention, and Cas stops what he is doing to look at me. I don’t know what to say because I feel like such an asshole for putting the kibosh on going any further, so I just hope he does that mind reading thing he is so good at, and lets me off the hook.

Cas hovers above me and I get this warm feeling deep in my chest that I try to ignore, because I know it means something neither of us want...or maybe just not ready for.

His eyes are vibrant, even in the near darkness of his living room and I can clearly make out the blue tint of irises. They look so soft, so understanding that I feel released from my guilt at stopping him almost immediately. 

I am also suddenly aware of how much I really didn’t want the kissing part to stop. Just because I don’t want to take it further tonight, doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend the evening with Cas’ tongue down my throat.

Cas stares down at me for another long minute, not saying anything at all. He looks down at me with what can only be described as affection, and that has me doing mental backflips. 

I am just about to give up on the necking portion of our evening when Cas leans back down to place a kiss on my lips. He keeps his body above mine though, our hips no longer meeting and the pressure to move faster removed. 

The kiss grows deeper, and I am thrilled that I didn’t just ruin the moment. 

In the back of my mind, (the part that isn’t memorizing the texture of Cas tongue or the feel of his lips between mine), I find myself grateful for the thing that used to annoy me the most about Cas. 

I didn’t have to say a word about not being ready for sex, but still really wanting to keep up the kissing part, and he just knew. 

As we continue making out on the couch like teenagers waiting for their parents to come home, I wonder if Cas can read everyone this well, or if it’s just me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably wont have time to write tomorrow until the evening...don't hate me! At least they're making out now! Yaaaay tongue sex!!


	17. Wrecking Crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrecking Crew- To Kill a King

“I think your question could use some clarification.” Cas has a seriously annoyed look on his face, but I can’t help but smile brightly back at him.

The past two days have been incredibly bewildering.

Partly because I kiss Cas pretty much whenever I want, and partly because he has to answer any question I have for him, as per our deal. I actually wrote out a list of stuff to get answers to, some of it was pretty generic and basic, like favorite color (green) and favorite movie (Reservoir Dogs). Other questions were more complicated. 

I shied away from the more sensitive stuff at first, not wanting to be a dick and ask too many personal questions, but I’m also fully aware that this may be the only time I get legitimate answers out of him and I want to take advantage of that. The fact that he blacklisted all things Lucifer, has me pretty irritated, as well as the fact that he never adds anything extra to the questions I ask him. He answers them in as few words as he can get away with, and I am left having to ask more questions to get anything of actual substance.

Like when I asked him how he ended up in foster care, it took fifteen different questions to know that his father was killed in action in Iraq when he was five, and his mother died shortly after. I could tell from the look on his face when he admitted to his mother’s death, that there was much more to that story than he was telling me, but I didn’t want to push him that far if he didn’t want to share something so personal. 

It’s the last day of our arrangement, and I can’t help but feel a little dirty about the whole situation. I’m learning all this information about a man who usually says no more than a word or two about himself. Of course, if he is talking about someone else, the fucker won’t shut up, but ask him one serious thing about who he is, and he takes a trip down monosyllabic lane.

I’m pretty nice about our set up though, and answer any questions he has for me that are related to what I ask him, so it’s more like tit for tat, rather than an interrogation. 

“What?” I say innocently through my smile. “ _Why don’t you like people, Cas?_ what’s so hard to understand about that.”

I hear a snicker in front of me, and know that Gabe is enjoying Cas’ and my deal, just as much as I am. 

“Maybe I just think it’s a stupid question.” Cas rolls his eyes and sips out of his beer bottle. 

I had meant it mostly as a joke, since it’s obvious that Cas isn’t exactly a people person, but now I’m actually interested in how he will answer.

“Stupid or not, a question is a question.” I say, taking a bite of my sandwich. 

I came in to see Gabe on my lunch hour since I hadn’t talked to him in a few days, and was pleasantly surprised to find Cas already occupying a seat at the bar. I had a momentary twinge of worry about his day-drinking, but forced it away. I don’t want to start caring about the way Cas lives his life. The last thing I need is to add serious feelings to the myriad of emotions that already accompany my thoughts of Cas. 

“I don’t hate people.” He finally answers. I can tell by his tone that he has no intention of elaborating and I gear up to ask another question. 

But then his lips curl into a smirk around the lip of his beer bottle, and I forget what I was going to say. 

If Gabe wasn’t currently standing two feet away, I would grab Cas’ face and lay one on him right now because he is, so _God damn sexy_ , when he is being a smug bastard. I lick my lips in response, and Cas raises one of his eyebrows as he watches the course my tongue takes over my lips.

It’s a challenge, and I am so close to nodding and meeting him in the bathroom, but I just paste on my own cocky smirk and shake my head. “You think you’re so clever Cas.”

“Yes.” He says, a slight chuckle under his breath taking away from the arrogance of his word.

“Fine. Let’s try this.” I rub my hands together and exhale. “What is it about people, that makes you dislike being around them?”

“Nice.” I hear from behind the bar, and turn to give Gabe a wink of appreciation. 

When I turn back to Cas, I can see something in his eyes that I’ve never seen before, and I think, _just maybe_ , it might be jealousy. There is certainly that predatory look in his eyes as he looks between me and Gabe quickly, but then his expression goes blank, and he is back to just staring at me with an irritated look on his face.

I don’t have long to think about the implication of what that look meant, because Cas looks like he is actually thinking about giving me a real answer and I straighten up to hear it. He takes a long sip of his beer, and takes a bite of his own sandwich before he finally speaks.

“Alright.” He says, wiping his hands on his napkin and then throwing the napkin onto his plate. “People?” 

Cas sits back in his chair and props his knee up so that it’s leaning against the bar ledge. 

“As an idea, they are exquisite. A person can accomplish a great many things, and do exponential good with the resources available to them.” 

It sounds like he is reading from a textbook, rather than speaking his mind, and it takes me only a second to realize why. I keep my mouth shut though, and let him get through his bullshit answer. 

“In practice? People are the greatest flaw our planet boasts. They consume, they break, they torture, and they demand. As a whole, people are the earth’s parasites, and do not deserve the resources she provides them.”

His hands are behind his head, and his eyes are up to the television screen, and I can tell he is so pleased with himself. He doesn’t see me give him the biggest eye roll my eye sockets allow, because his eyes are still up and not on me. His hand snakes out to grab his beer and sucks some down.

My voice cuts through his chug session. “Do you always quote your own articles, or is it just when you can’t come up with anything real to say?”

Cas chokes on his beer then, and I find an immense level of satisfaction at that. 

He looks at me with a half amused, half amazed look on his face, which I attribute to his surprise at me being able to pinpoint his rant’s source. 

“You actually read what I wrote?” He says it kind of suspiciously, and his mouth is slightly open. When I nod, with a ‘ _well, duh_ ’ look on my face, a small grin finds his lips. 

“Surprised?” I ask.

“Yes.” He answers back. “I assumed your sudden interest in animal rights was just to get into my pants.” His humbled smile vanishes and in its place is the cocky smirk I’ve _kind of_ come to adore. 

“Oh it is.” I say with sly confidence. “I’m just very thorough.”

“Impressive.” He says it like he really means it, although his eyes are telling a completely different story. They are screaming something I definitely recognize as fear, and I think maybe he has the wrong idea about my true motives here.

The last thing I want, is for Cas to think I am actually interested in more than something physical right now. I can just barely handle the groping we have worked up to over the last couple days, so I am not exactly campaigning for a boyfriend, and I know something with more substance is definitely not what he wants either. 

I have thankfully stopped seeing Lisa behind my eyes whenever we kiss, and I’m almost at the point where I can leave her in her own carved out space in my mind, and not let her creep in at all when I’m with Cas. It’s not exactly sexy, thinking of your dead wife when someone else’s hand is working their hand into your pants. 

It occurs to me that Cas must really want to know what I’m like in the sack, if he is willing to go as slow as he is. It’s not as if I see a bunch of options he is turning down though, so at least I know he isn’t missing out on anything by spending his time with me. 

Thinking about Cas seeing someone else kind of turns my stomach, but at the same time, I know I have no right to him. He said himself that he doesn’t do labels, not that I’d be interested in that right now anyway. 

I have to admit though, it is getting harder not to develop actual feelings for this guy the more I get to know him. It’s easy to lust after someone when there is such a magnetic connection, like there is with me and Cas, even if you just met. Now that I happen to know the name of his first grade teacher (Mrs. Visna), and the way he likes his eggs (Over easy, heavy on the cayenne, buttered toast for dipping), seeing Cas as just a hot body is starting to become pretty difficult. 

“Don’t worry Cas” I say teasingly, even though something in me makes it difficult to get the next words out. “I promise it’s only your body I’m after.”

I hear a noise from behind the bar that makes me turn away from Cas, who has just blinked a few times in my direction and then turned back to his beer. Gabe is staring at me with an undiscernible look, and I give him a face that asks him why.

“Nothing.” He says too quickly. “Uh, you about done there?” I can tell he is purposely not saying whatever it is he was thinking before, and it bugs me, but I don’t challenge him.

Beside me, Cas is standing up and downing the last of his beer. He nearly slams it back down on the bar, before pulling some cash from his pocket and throwing it next to the bottle. He gives Gabe a nod and then puts on his jacket.

“You headed out?” I say around my last bite of sandwich.

“Does it look like I plan to stay awhile?” He says back dryly.

His tone bites harder than it usually does, even though the words are not at all unexpected. 

I refrain from throwing him the insult I know he is fishing for, and just shrug and stick a fry in my mouth. 

Instead of being annoyed though, Cas just snickers and shakes his head. 

I look over to find him staring at me and I don’t know what he wants me to do, but I sure as hell would like to say goodbye with my mouth on his. The choice is out of my hands though, when Cas turns abruptly, and heads out the door.

“No goodbye?” Gabe asks me after the door slams shut.

“I guess not.” I shrug again, and try not to let Cas’ strange behavior affect me. The guy _is_ strange, his method of departure isn’t supposed to be normal.

“Trouble in paradise already?” Gabe teases, pulling my water glass from me and refilling it.

“What paradise?” I balk. “Me and Cas?” I give him an overly bemused look. “You got to be careful with all that porn you watch Gabe. Your brain is leaking out your dick.”

Gabe laughs at that, but his amusement doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I don’t know Dean-o.” He shakes his head and speaks carefully. “Seems to me, you two got something bigger than either of you want to admit.”

Something in my heart kind of stutters at that, but I don’t want to give it any more thought than I have to. “Like I said, you’ve gone insane.”

Gabe just shrugs and gives me a look that says I’m full of shit.

“Seriously, Cas and I are just-” I groan and sit back in my seat. “We’re not that. Okay? He doesn’t want that, I can’t...it’s just not like that.”

“He’s told you this?” Gabe is suddenly very occupied with drying glasses that didn’t look wet, and I am left wondering what he knows that I don’t.

“Uh...maybe?” I honestly can’t remember what Cas said exactly, but he definitely gave off the impression that he wasn’t interested in anything long-term. “I don’t know, Cas isn’t much of a talker Gabe.”

“Eh, I don’t know.” Gabe shrugs with his mouth. “Everyone talks to someone. Even Cassie.”

Something occurs to me then, and I eye Gabe harder. “How long have you known Cas?”

Gabe’s eyes go wide for a second before he recovers his expression and evens it out. “Uh- I don’t know, a decade? Give or take a year.”

“Whoa.” I shouldn’t be surprised by this, considering that Cas comes here as often as he does, but it still throws me. “How exactly do you two know each other?”

“We, uh, worked together.” Gabe barely gets the sentence out because he is so absorbed in his apparently _obscenely_ wet beer mugs. He then moves to the other end of the bar and starts wiping it pretty aggressively.

“Is that right?” I say cautiously, letting my doubt coat every word. “You used to work for PETA too?”

Gabe starts filling the sinks behind the bar and bringing _clean_ glasses over to wash. “Yep. Hey, I heard you were friends with Charlie too. You going to the friendsgiving thing her and her girls got going?”

And the award for most obvious avoidance technique goes to...

“Uh, yeah, I am. Actually, I’m staying with Charlie that weekend, I got renters coming in.” I follow Gabe’s lead, even though it is painfully obvious he is trying to change the subject.

“She going to share one of her girlfriends with you?” Gabe teases, his face still angled towards the sinks as he washes glasses. “If not, I got a couch and a stack of Casa Erotica with your name on it.”

“You’re disgusting.” I say with a straight face. “Truly horrendous.”

“It’s a gift.” He says with a flick of his wrist as he brushes his hair back. 

I want to go back to Cas and how they know each other, but I don’t know how to get there without calling him out. 

Why is everyone so damn sketchy in this town?

I check my phone for the time and realize I need to get back, so I pull out some cash and lay it on the bar. “I gotta jet, back on the clock.”

I try to ignore the relief that seems to fly off of Gabe’s shoulders, and just give him a nod and a wave before I head out and back to work.

 

***

 

Work is pretty slow for the rest of the day, and Rufus lets me go around four. I stop in to see Charlie before heading home, and just barely get out of having to answer the questions she starts throwing at me, the moment Cas comes up. Thankfully, my phone rings as she is handing me my coffee, and I get to use that as an excuse to talk to her later.

I look down at the number as I head out of the coffee shop, but don’t recognize it, so I let it go to voicemail. I hate talking to people on the phone, and I especially hate having to listen to people try and sell me stuff. Part of me always feels bad for them, that this is their job, and part of me just wants to throw battery acid through the phone, and into their stupid mouths for screwing with my day. Whoever it was, didn’t leave a message, so I figure it was definitely a telemarketer of some kind. 

The walk home isn’t so bad, and the coffee helps keep me warm on the way. 

I think about Gabe and Cas, and why Gabe was so weird about their relationship. It strikes me as odd, but then again, maybe Gabe knows Cas through ALF and not PETA, and he didn’t want to out Cas. I could see that being the case. 

I am starting to feel better about the situation when I remember what Gabe said about Cas, and how everyone talks to someone. 

Is it possible Cas talks to Gabe about stuff like this? About me? 

If there was anyone in Cas’ life I would think he talks to, I would think its Charlie, but maybe I’m wrong. It is pretty strange that Cas hangs out with Gabe as often as he seems to, if they aren’t actually pretty close.

I get a quick flash of something dark as I picture the possibility of them being lovers at some point, and the image makes me cringe. I definitely do not like the idea of Cas being with anyone else, which is crazy because I’ve known the guy for like a month, and it was only days ago that I kissed him for the first time. I shouldn’t be feeling so possessive over him. Especially since he has no intention of truly being mine. 

I let out a sigh, and I have no idea where it comes from, but it sounds too much like regret for my liking. I pick up my pace and make it home faster than usual.

I walk into the house and immediately wish I was somewhere else.

I wish I was walking into Cas’ place, taking a place next to him on the couch, and eating shitty Chinese food while we-

_NO._

That is not what is going to happen here. 

We are not dating. 

He is not, nor will he ever be _my boyfriend_.

Why am I even freaking out about this? It’s not like I am ready to settle into something more there either. I don’t think I could give Cas any sort of emotional...whatever.

It’s too soon. Way too soon. 

I need to calm the fuck down. 

I take a few measured breaths with my eyes closed to try and get a handle on myself. I take a few more steps into my house, but I stop short because I promised myself I would follow my instincts on this, and those are telling me to make the walk to six houses over.

The truth is, I feel better when I’m around him. I don’t feel as _broken_.

I feel strong. 

So, maybe he isn’t just a hot piece of ass that I sort of wish I could sink my dick into right now, maybe he actually _is_ my friend.

He may not want to call himself that, but to me, Cas has definitely become my friend.

My friend that I really want to see naked.

“Fuck it.” 

I turn around and leave the house much happier than I came in. 

Cas doesn’t seem to care that I say hello with my tongue, or that I use it to find the most sensitive places along his neck. 

And if he cares that I sucked a mark or two into his skin too, he doesn’t say so.


	18. Always Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always Alright- Alabama Shakes

The weeks leading up to Thanksgiving are probably some of the most frustratingly arousing combination of days, in my entire life. And that includes my teenage years when I was pretending not to like cock, or when I knew I liked it, but was afraid to touch one. 

There are still moments when I am kissing Cas, that I feel guilty enough to keep things pretty tame between us. It leaves me wanting, and I have been jerking off pretty much daily. But all in all, I am finally starting to release a lot of that shame I feel for wanting him the way I do.

I’ve begun to accept that just because I think of Cas during my morning showers now, and spend most nights necking with him on his couch, doesn’t mean I didn’t love Lisa. 

It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t rather her still be alive.

Sometimes though, I do feel like letting myself enjoy my time with Cas, means that in some way, I am happy she is gone. The feeling creeps in, and it’s like I am betraying her somehow, just by being happy without her. 

Of course this is just one more thing to fuck me up, and keep me from taking Cas to bed.

I did some internet searches, because I am that pathetic and desperate to get through this, to see what an appropriate amount of time to wait before having sex after losing a spouse is. The results varied from, as soon as you are up for it, to at least one year. 

It has been five months since I buried Lisa, and part of me wants to split the difference between the two suggestions, and just wait another month before taking the plunge if I feel ready.

I know it’s probably stupid, but it’s the only thing I can think to do, to give myself some sort of control over the situation. I feel like, if I hold out for that long, then maybe I will avoid disrespecting Lisa and what we had together. 

From what I read from other widows and widowers, it’s not an uncommon thing to do, the arbitrary waiting-period. The fact that I had a year to prepare for Lisa’s death apparently makes it easier to move on, rather than if I had lost her suddenly. I suspect if she had died in a car accident five months ago instead of the way she did, I would not be able to feel what I do for Cas right now.

Thankfully, I have made a pretty awesome friend in Charlie, and despite her obvious conflict of interest, she has been great to talk to. 

And by talk, I mean she asks me a lot of questions and I give her as little information as I can manage. It’s a technique I have honed over spending copious amounts of time with Cas, especially after our deal ended. I have also perfected my ability to speak in riddles, to get advice out of her, without actually having to ask her something embarrassing directly. I’m not stupid enough to think she doesn’t know what I’m doing, but she is cool enough not to call me out on it. 

Like when I wanted to invite Cas over for dinner, but didn’t know if it was a good idea; I asked Charlie if she knew of any allergies he had. 

She replied with, “No foods, but he is allergic to forced social engagements of the romantic persuasion.” 

It was pretty much the nicest thing she has ever said to me. 

I knew from her choice of words that inviting him for dinner would probably freak Cas out, and so instead I just dropped by his house with the ingredients for spinach lasagna, and started cooking it in his kitchen, while he wrote at the kitchen table. It was incredibly domestic, without any of the awkward pretense that would usually accompany that. I enjoyed it, and it didn’t look like Cas gave a shit.

I’ve tried not thinking about how much I like spending time with him, and mostly write it off as widower loneliness, but I’m not so dense not to realize what is happening here. I’ve thought about maybe getting some distance, so I don’t fall into a situation that breaks my already broken heart, but I can’t seem to commit to that idea.

Cas makes life easier to live. 

The mundane minutes that fill my day, hurt less when he is around. It’s not that he makes me forget Lisa, or the life I lost when she died, but more that he reminds me that I am still alive.

He gives me a reason to laugh, to argue, to _feel_. 

I don’t really want to give that up, even if it means I will get hurt later.

 

****

 

“Did you get the lima beans?” Charlie asks, her arm elbow deep inside the turkey.

“I absolutely did not.” I reply back with a look of disgust on my face. “I don’t care what you say Charlie, no one actually _likes_ them. I got green beans, and I’ll make a casserole out of em’.”

She gives me a look that kind of makes me fear for my life, and I back up slowly out of her kitchen. “Those are Gilda’s favorite. If we do not have lima beans-

“She is going to love my green bean casserole Charlie!” I raise my right hand over my heart. “I swear it.”

“Dean Winchester.” She takes her hand out of the turkey and lets it drop into the roasting pan. “If you do not get your ass to the store and get those damn lima beans, I swear to-”

“Oh pipe down love.” Dorothy’s voice comes from behind me and I relax considerably. “Her parents aren’t going to like us any better if we have lima beans on the table.”

Dorothy comes around the counter and steps in front of Charlie. She swipes the hair out of her face and uses her thumb to flatten the frown lines on the red head’s forehead.

“But-”

“Seriously, no one likes them. Not even Gilda.” Dorothy pecks a kiss onto Charlie’s lips and I blush a little because I’m obviously still a preschooler. “She only makes them every year because her parents always used to.”

I can see that Dorothy’s argument doesn’t do much to settle Charlie’s nerves, and I want to make the day as easy on her as I can. Gilda’s parents had finally agreed to come to visit them, after years of estrangement. They didn’t love the fact that she is a lesbian, and adding a polyamorous relationship on top of that, really strained their relationship.

Charlie has been going on and on about how perfect the dinner has to be since they agreed to come though, and if having lima beans on the table would make her feel better about the situation, then it’s the least I can do.

I take a step forward and put my hand on Charlie’s arm. “I’ll just run out real quick. I bet the store next to the bar is still open.”

Charlie’s face brightens immediately and I give her a little wink before heading out. I hear her call her gratitude behind me before shutting the door.

I drive to the store and pick up three bags of lima beans because I have absolutely no idea how much we actually need, and notice Cas walking into the bar just as I am about to pass it. I decide to make a quick stop in, my hands on the steering wheel actually making the choice for me and turning the wheel into the bar’s parking lot. 

Gabe had said he planned to close up early and would be over to Charlie’s sometime after, but it was probably too early for him to be closing up yet. 

When I walk into the bar, I don’t get the greeting I am accustomed to, and in fact don’t get any greeting at all. Gabe is nowhere to be seen, and neither is Cas. There is one guy at the end of the bar, and a few people in booths along the walls, but no sign of the bartender or Cas. 

I walk around the other side of the bar and immediately recognize Gabe’s voice in the small hallway that leads to the kitchen. From where I’m standing, he can’t see me and I’m about to say hello, but then Gabe’s tone strikes me as odd and I find myself frozen solid. 

“You really think he has a clue?” Gabe is saying in a harsh whisper. “He followed you, not me.”

“We can’t know that for sure Gabriel.” Cas says, his voice strained with something I think I recognize as worry. 

“It doesn’t make any sense Cassie. Why now?” Gabe argues, “I’ve been here for three years now.”

“I don’t know.” Cas nearly groans out. I think I can hear him rubbing his hand over his eyes, and I am painfully aware that there is so much that I don’t know and I am really starting to _hate_ it. 

Who are they talking about, and why do they feel the need to hide this conversation?

“Castiel, I appreciate your concern, but I think you have more important things to worry about.” Gabe whispers back, his tone slightly lighter now.

There is silence, which I can only imagine is being paired with an irritated glare from Cas.

“Such as?”

“Your new recruit.”

What? Cas is working with someone new? Or is Gabe talking about-

“Dean isn’t joining us Gabriel.”

My heart kind of stutters at my name on Cas’ lips, especially because the way he says it is so much softer than any other word out of his mouth. 

“Says you.” Gabe replies back. “I don’t know, from the way he has been talking lately, I’d be surprised if he didn’t hop on the free Willy bandwagon.”

This takes me back for a second before I realize how much I have been talking to Gabe lately. When I’m with Cas, the conversations we have are usually of the more abstract variety...or physical variety, and when I’m with Charlie or Gabe, I end up talking about whatever is going on in my life at the moment. Which means Gabe has heard a good amount about what I’ve been reading, as well as seen it for himself when I bring it with me to read during dinner. 

I have actually kind of immersed myself into the world of animal rights activism. I’ve read through all of Cas’ stuff as well as other people he has recommended to me. I am currently reading Zoopolis, and all of it combined is affecting me a whole lot more than I thought it would.

“I won’t let him.” Cas says sharply. “He can’t...not after what happened.”

“Dean’s a big boy. He is going to do what he wants Cassie.” Gabe argues softly. “If it’s not with you, then it’ll be someone else. At least with you, you know where he is and what he is doing.”

I really fucking hate that they are mapping out my life for me, and I’m about to confront them about it, but then I hear a bell ring from the kitchen that says an order is ready, and my feet instinctually take me to the other side of the bar. I sit down and try to look as innocent as possible, as Cas appears from the hallway.

When he spots me, I can see the apprehension in his face for only a split second, before it melts away into something much calmer. 

He is a good little actor that jerk.

“Dean.” He says casually, taking a seat next to me and and laying his hand on my thigh. “Don’t you have a holiday to celebrate?”

I smirk at that and lean my knee into his, so that they are right up against one another. “Yes, and so do you.” I say it with just enough accusation to make it known that I know he is hiding something from me, but not enough to make him fess up. “Just had to run out for lima beans.”

“I see.” He says is slowly, and his hand starts traveling up my thigh. “Lima beans are about as interesting as I expect this night to be.” Cas looks down at his own hand as it moves up and down my upper leg, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “If only there were something to distract me.”

I swallow hard and steady my breathing, which has become more erratic at his touch. “Yeah,” I say, as evenly as I can manage. “It’s a pity I’ll be so busy helping Charlie out, you’ll have to entertain yourself most of the evening.”

He gives me one of his famous smirks for that, and then he leans in close enough that I can smell his last cigarette on his breath. It helps pull me out of the rush of lust that runs through me, and I use the pungent smell to help keep me from popping a boner. 

“Is that a challenge?” Cas’ lips brush my ear, and it’s all I can do not to turn my head and meet his lips. 

_Fuck yeah_ it’s a challenge.

“Maybe.” I say coyly. I slide out of my seat and away from him, keeping the bar stool between us. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

I love the look on Cas’ face before I turn and walk out of the bar. I see everything I want to in there; excitement, amusement, _want_.

There is also a hint of something else, that I don’t want to touch with a ten foot pole because it could mean a couple different things, and I’m afraid to hope for one over the other.

 

***

 

If I thought the last few weeks had been sexually frustrating, tonight has upgraded my emotional state to sexually monstrous. 

Cas took my little jab at being unavailable to him tonight, as a challenge to fuck with me as often as he possibly could.

First, it was tasting the cranberry sauce right out of the bowl with his finger, licking it suggestively before sucking on it completely, his eyes locked with mine the entire time.

I gave him a dirty look for that, but it didn’t stop there. Soon, Cas is taking every opportunity he can to brush past me, his ass rubbing against my crotch so subtly I doubt anyone notices. He’d pretend like nothing had happened sometimes, and other times he would look back at me with this innocent, “My apologies”, kind of look. After the _fifth_ time, I started covering my junk with my hand whenever he was near.

Then, whenever I would be talking to someone, Cas would interrupt me with his penetrating gaze, doing absolutely nothing but staring at me, but I could feel my clothes being mentally peeled away, and it lit my skin on fire. Sometimes he would accompany those eye fuck session with one of his sexed up smirks, and other times his lips would be pursed, like he was holding back that genuine smile I see from time to time. 

Shit hits the fan though, when we finally sit down to dinner, and Cas places himself directly across from me. At first, I think I got off easy when he doesn’t take the seat next to mine, but I soon learn how wrong I am.

He starts off using his hand to stroke down the neck of his beer bottle as he talks to Charlie. His fingers captivate me as they move, and their intention to make my mind wander as to where else those fingers could be put to use, is very successful. Then, it isn’t long after our plates are filled and conversation is flowing, that I feel his foot traveling up my leg. 

My mind is trying to focus on how all eleven dinner guests can fit at this table if it is small enough for Cas to be able to reach his leg across without making it obvious, but then I realize there is no shoe on his foot and it’s working its way up to my crotch. My eyes shoot over to his, but he is talking to Gabe who is sitting next to me. There is a hint of a smirk on his lips, but other than that, there would be no outward sign that he is currently rubbing his foot against my dick.

Baseball.

That’s what everyone says to think about right? Think about baseball and something gross. Like, trash...or vomit...or fungused feet.

NO! 

Not feet. No feet.

My chest moves faster, as my attempts to keep myself flaccid are quickly being turned into fantasies about flipping the table over, and mounting Cas right here in front of everyone. I realize though, that if this keeps up, there is a very real possibility that I could come in my pants and that is probably at the top of the list of things not to do at Thanksgiving dinner. 

I take a glance around the table to try and distract myself, and see that Gilda’s parents are deep in conversation with Charlie, and no one seems to be upset so I take that as a good sign. Ash and two other’s I recognize from Charlie’s birthday are at the other end of the table with Dorothy and Gilda, and cramming their faces. Gabe is too interested in whatever it is he and Cas are talking about to notice the foot in my lap, and I am extremely grateful for that. 

Cas continues to move his foot up and down my crotch, and it’s actually getting pretty difficult to breath normally, and I want to start throwing food at the man because this is actually really _fucked up_. His hand is back on that damn beer bottle, and he is actually moving it in rhythm with his foot and it’s all too much. 

I push away from the table quickly, and excuse myself to the bathroom, careful to hide the situation in my pants as I go.

When I get to the bathroom, I have to make a decision quick. I either work _through_ my raging hard-on, or I work it _out_. I’m sure my exit wasn’t exactly stealthy, so it’s not like I can take a whole lot of time in here, but Cas worked me up enough that I could probably get myself there rather quickly. 

I am in the process of finding tissues when the bathroom door opens and Cas slips inside. 

Fuck.

There is a very big part of me that wants to push him to his knees and ask him to make this up to me. But there is another part that kind of wants to make Cas beg for it. I hate that he has me all worked up, and he seems relatively unaffected. 

Cas moves forward just enough to be in my space, and I wait for him to say or do something, but he just gives me this little half-grin that makes everything kind of go fuzzy, and I feel like maybe I need to lean against something.

This is bullshit.

“So are you just going to keep staring at me, or are you going to do whatever it is you followed me in here to do?” I say it more breathlessly than I want to, but I have little control over such things at the moment.

“Are you admitting defeat?” He says innocently, giving me a look of mock pity that kind of makes me want to smack him. 

“No.” I say immediately, because the _fuck_ I am. I do, however, really have a situation going on downstairs that needs to be taken care of, one way or another. “But I won’t stop you either.”

Cas stifles a laugh and rolls his eyes. “How romantic.”

“I wasn’t aware you were looking for long walks on the beach, Cas.” I say with a smirk of my own. “If that’s the case, I can take care of myself just as easily.”

Cas takes another step forward and he is pressed against my body now and _thank you Jesus_ , my dick gets some friction. “That’s not necessary.” He says in a whisper. I feel his hand traveling down my side, and my eyes flicker down to his lips. “And entirely inaccurate.”

“Which part?” I say through labored breaths, as his hand makes quick work of my button and zipper. His lips are on the corner of mine now, kissing me softly, with a light flick of his tongue before he pulls back to answer.

“I can get you off far faster than you could on your own.”

“Is that so?” It’s a stupid challenge because I think we are both fully aware of how full of shit I am.

“Should I note the time?” He murmurs against my lips, his hand dipping into my pants and wrapping around my dick. 

If there is any kind of God, they must have personally crafted Cas’ hands for exactly this purpose. 

His grip is strong, but gentle enough to be teasing at first. I let out a soft moan at first contact. He takes my open mouth for himself, and slips his tongue inside. 

Cas pulls my dick all the way out of my pants and begins to build a steady rhythm. I have a momentary flash of guilt for thinking that this is probably the best hand job I’ve ever gotten, and it’s not even over yet; but I push the thought away and just enjoy the feel of Cas’ hand on me.

He works me slowly at first, just enough to make me whisper his name, a quiet plea to take me apart. And then his hand is stroking me faster, his kisses growing deeper and filthier. Our tongues slide together messily and my hands hold onto Cas’ head by his hair.

My lower lip gets sucked between his lips, and it pulls a moan from me that Cas stifles with his mouth. I don’t have long before heat begins to pool in my stomach and I am jerking under him, fucking myself into his hand. I feel him reach for the tissues just as I reach the top, and fall over the edge, coming hard and fast into Cas’ hand. 

He has the tissues ready, and skillfully avoids getting any on either of us. 

My head is lifeless on his shoulder, as he cleans me up, and I don’t have enough sense to think about how intimate this moment is. It’s only a moment though, until I remember this is all we are, and I lift my head up. I look down at him with a satisfied smile, and he rewards me with a smug one of his own. 

His eyes flick down to my lips, but he holds his place. Instead of a kiss, Cas brings one of his fingers up to his lips and licks it. It takes me a second, but I realize what he has just done, and it makes me want to taste him too. I never have been one for the cum taste test, but _holy shit_ , that was hot. He looks pretty satisfied with whatever flavor he found there, so that’s pretty damn awesome too.

I put myself back in my jeans and fasten them, all while holding Cas’ intense gaze. I think about maybe returning the favor, but then Cas is backing up and grabbing a few clean tissues from the box and stuffing them in his pocket.

When I give him a questioning look, he just shrugs and walks past me. I can hear him over the sound of the door opening though, and his words make me want to pull him right back in.

“The night is young.”


	19. Hold On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold On- Lewis Watson
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry for the delay guys.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.” Charlie approaches me with a pleased grin on her face. 

I can tell I am flushing under her praise, and duck my head slightly to hide myself from her scrutiny. “What? Isn’t that what this place is for? Share our childhood traumas and all that?”

“Yes.” Charlie says between bites of her donut, “But I thought I’d have your social security number memorized before I knew anything about your family.”

Her joke helps diffuse the tension in my shoulders and I give her an annoyed smile. “I’m not that bad.” I grab a jelly filled and stuff half of it in my mouth. “I mean-” I say with my mouth disgustingly full, “It’s not like I’m _Cas_.”

“True.” Charlie says through a grimace. “So what color was the barn you were raised in?”

“Ha. Ha.” I roll my eyes. “You should be careful though, you tease me like this...and I’m not likely to say anything in the future.”

“Aw, don’t be like that man!” She gives me a pat on my shoulder. “You know I’m just messing with you. I am really glad you shared tonight. All that stuff about your brother? It’s got to feel good to let some of that go.”

I give her a timid smile and nod. 

Because she is right. 

Ever since my little breakdown with Cas, and the subsequent risking of my life for Rodger Rabbit, I feel like I am finally starting to let some of that go. Part of my decades long turmoil revolved around not knowing how my mother felt, about not knowing if she loved me, or if she ever forgave me. Reading that journal, made me realize it didn’t matter. 

She had written it only a year after Sam’s death, and her emotions were incredibly raw. I read the worst things she had probably written in there, considering what a kind and thoughtful woman she was, and I survived it. 

Her feelings were understandable, and any mother would have struggled with hating her son for what happened. The fact that I am still here and Sam isn’t, is out of my control. I am not the man I was, and the fact that it is very possible that my mother died hating that man, doesn’t affect who I am now.

I left that boy, that scared and helpless little shit, in the gutters of Boston. 

He doesn’t exist anymore. 

The fact that my mother hated him, doesn’t mean she would hate me. 

I have come to realize, that my mother would be proud of me, of who I have become and who I still try to be. 

My sexuality didn’t really seem to be a factor for her, as it was my father, and everything else I have going on now, would probably make her happy.

This realization, this _enlightenment_ , makes me feel like my soul has somehow been cleansed. Like maybe I get to start over now, and lead a life on my own, without the dead weight of the demons of my past. 

“Yeah, you know Charlie?” I say with a much wider grin than my face is capable of holding on to, “It really is.”

 

****

 

I decide to invite Charlie over for dinner one night the following week. It’s the first time I’ve had someone over, other than Cas who shows up unannounced from time to time, and it feels really good to have a friend.

Of course, I feel sort of guilty that there are ulterior motives to my invitation.

Cas is still tight lipped about what happened at the lab, and despite how persuasive I try to be, he refuses to shed some light on who Lucifer is. 

I figure, Charlie has known Cas longer than anyone else, she would be the perfect person to ask.

She comes over early enough to help me make dinner, a sweet potato and chick pea recipe that made me groan when she suggested it, but allowed anyway. 

Once the kitchen work is in full swing, I subtly begin my interrogation.

“So, I’ve been meaning to tell you something Charlie, but I didn’t really know how.” I am dicing red onions and my eyes are watering so I figure I am presenting this moment very innocently.

“Oh yeah?” She says, her head down while she peels potatoes over the sink. “What’s up buttercup?”

I roll my eyes and smile simultaneously.

“Well, I mean, you may already know this cuz you and Cas are so close and everything-”

“You two finally did the horizontal tango?!” She said excitedly, her head whipping around to face me.

“Uh.... No. Psycho.” 

She pouts and returns to her work.

“What I was _going_ to say, was that I went with him on a job a couple weeks ago.”

I hear something fall in the sink but keep my eyes trained on the tear jerkers.

“You what?” Her voice is small and quiet, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard Charlie sound like this before.

“It was crazy,” I try and sound as light and amused as possible, especially since it seems she has no idea what I’m talking about and doesn’t sound too pleased by it. “I mean, I didn’t really mean for it to happen- and Cas didn’t either - but I ended up there and then some serious shit went down.”

“What?” Charlie is behind me now and I feel her hand on my arm, pulling me to look at her. “What happened, exactly, Dean.”

I try to sound as innocent as possible when I answer her, not wanting to tip her off that I already have as much information that I do. “It was insane, one minute I’m in the car, waiting for Cas and the guys to come out, and the next there is this SUV pulling up and throwing bombs inside the lab.” I shake my head, like its all fun and just a really crazy story. “I went in and grabbed the guys before anything could go down, but it was a close call for sure. One of his guys got pretty beat up.”

Charlie was staring at me with eyes wide and full of something I never want to see on her face again. I hate lying to her, I hate pretending like I don’t know how serious all of this is. She doesn’t say anything and I figure I should keep going.

“I thought Cas mighta already told you this, but since you never brought it up, I wanted to tell you myself.” I shrug slightly and turn back around to my onions. I hate this, I really do, but I _have_ to know what is going on.

“Dean.” I finally hear Charlie say, after a length of time I will forever deem, _the minutes of immeasurable panic._ “Did you see anyone? I mean- the people that came after- the people who blew up the lab, did you see any of them?”

“Yeah.” I say nonchalantly. “There was a blonde guy, who looked kind of scary, even from where I was sitting, and a woman with dark brown hair.” I put down my knife and turn to face her. “Why? You know something about this?”

Her face looks far more pale than usual, and her eyes are three sizes too large.

“Charlie?” I say hesitantly.

“Dean.” She says quietly. “What did Cas say about this?”

I want to choose my words carefully here. If I say the wrong thing, Charlie will clam up, thinking Cas wants her to do so. “He told me the guy was Lucifer, and that him and his demons were notorious for shit like this.”

Charlie’s face goes even graver, and then she shuts her eyes and turns away from me. “Lucifer.” She says it as a statement, but I can hear so many questions in his name.

“Yeah, pretty much a bag of dicks, right?”

“You have no idea.” She says with a huff of a breath. “Dean, you really- Cas shouldn’t have involved you in any of this.” She is turning back to face me, and I am doing my best to keep my expression much softer than it wants to be.

“Why?”

“Because, Lucifer and Cas-” She stops herself, and I am almost literally on my toes waiting for her to finish, but she clamps her mouth shut in a hard line, her lips pressed between her teeth.

“Charlie, what?”

“I can’t.” She says finally, pushing herself back to the sink and picking up her neglected sweet potato and peeler. “Cas would kill me.”

“Charlie, if there is something I need to know here...you have to tell me.” I say evenly. “I think I really like the idea of going out there and doing right by these animals, but if that means I am going to be dodging grenades, I think I deserve to know why.”

Charlie stays silent for a second, her hands once again going still. She lets out a loud breath and brings her eyes to mine. “Dean, I can’t tell you what you want to know-”

I start to protest, but Charlie stops me with her continuation.

“-but I will say, that Lucifer is very dangerous. Him and Cas....they have a past, and you don’t want to get mixed up in what they have now.”

“What do you mean, they have a past?” Something in my stomach turns, and I feel a weight settle heavy on my chest.

“Just what I said, they have a past.” Charlie says sternly. “Lucifer has a mission, but you ask anyone what that mission is, and you’ll get a different answer from any one of them. You don’t want to be on his radar Dean, trust me.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just nod. Charlie looks at me for another long moment, before turning back around to finish peeling the potatoes.

I stare at her back for a while, thinking over what she just said. 

Despite the rush of adrenaline I got when I was telling Charlie about our failed mission, the idea of risking my life for this cause doesn’t sit well with me. I certainly don’t like that Cas is putting himself in danger like this either.

I decide right then, the next time I see Cas, I am going to make him open up about this. 

***

 

After Charlie and I have dinner and play a few games of _Mario Kart_ , Charlie heads home and I decide to bite the bullet and give finally give Ellen a call. 

My hope is that it’s late enough for her to be in bed, but when her southern drawl comes rasping over the other end of the line, I grimace and prepare for the conversation I’ve been putting off.

“Dean, you’ve only been gone six months boy, have all of your manners disappeared with you?” Ellen chastises. “It’s damn near midnight.”

“Shit, Ellen,” I apologize. “I didn’t realize how late it was, I’ll call you some other time.” 

I hope she can’t hear how desperate I am for her to let me off the hook, and agree. 

It’s not that I don’t love Bobby’s wife, because the woman has been nothing but good to me. It’s just that she has this way of poking and prodding at me and my life, basically until I do whatever she says, or scream my head off into a pillow the moment I am free to do so.

“No, no. I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go that easily.” I can hear Bobby in the background, probably griping about the time.

“Are you sure? I promise I’ll call back this time.”

“Don’t say stupid things Dean.” She retorts back hotly.

I roll my eyes and sigh. I resign myself to the rest of my evening with Ellen going on about this and that in my ear, most likely hounding me on how I am spending my time lately, and make my way out to the back porch. 

“Alright, so then, how are you.” I ask innocently.

“Oh you’re good Dean, but you’re not that good. You and I both know ain’t nothing changed over here. I want to hear about you.”

“What- uh, what do you want to know Ellen?” I sit down at the table, and try to let the sound of the waves lull me into a Zen like state.

“Well, Bobby tells me you’ve made a few friends.” She says it simply, but I know better than to think she isn’t leading to something specific. “I’ve heard him mention someone by the name of Cas more than anyone else though.”

There it is.

Well, at least she isn’t going to waste my time tonight, beating around the bush.

“Yeah, that’s right. Cas and I are...friends.” I say it hesitantly because it’s still strange to think of him that way, but there is not a better word for what he is to me at the moment.

“Uh, huh.” Ellen doesn’t sound convinced. “You sure about that?”

“Ellen.” I say it as a warning. “Don’t start.”

“Now, Dean.” There is irritation dripping off her tongue. “I just want to know who it is you are spending all this time with, make sure he is a good influence and not leading you-”

“I am not a fifteen year old Ellen. No one is going to corrupt me.” 

“Don’t sass me.” She says it harshly, but I know there is nothing real behind it. 

I groan slightly and lean back in my chair. All of this will be over faster if I just say something, anything to get her off my back.

“Ellen, Cas is just....Cas. Yeah, maybe we are a little more than friends, but it’s nothing serious and it never will be.” I close my eyes as I hear the sharp intake of breath on the other end.

“And why is that?”

Why? 

Well, if I were to be honest, I would have to say it was because Cas isn’t that kind of guy and that he has no interest in relationships. I would say that it’s too soon for me to think about starting something long-term and that I am still getting over Lisa. 

Instead, I say something I know will just shut her up.

“Because I could never be with someone like him, he is pretty much a lost cause.”

“Hmm. Well then, maybe you should stop doing whatever it is you two are doing. Not exactly smart to be dipping your pen in ink you don’t plan to buy.”

“Cute.” I say with enough sarcasm she can probably taste it through the phone. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that Ellen, my relationship with Cas isn’t worth the wrinkles on your forehead.”

I can hear her stifle a laugh.

The wind outside picks up, and there is cigarette smoke in the air. The smell itself is unpleasant, but the memories it holds, makes my heart beat faster. I pull myself together though, to get Ellen off my back. 

“Seriously Ellen, I am fine. I’ve got Charlie and Gabe, who are pretty awesome people and becoming good friends of mine. What Cas and I do or don’t have, is barely a blip on my radar.”

“Well, alright.” She finally says, “Don’t be a stranger Dean. Call me more than once a month, you hear?”

“Yeah, yeah. Will do.” I say with more sincerity than I meant to put into the words. “Night Ellen.”

I hear a click on the other end and place my phone down on the table. 

The moon is casting shadows along my porch, and it makes me feel like there is more to be seen tonight than my eyes are capable of witnessing. I suddenly feel very small, completely surrounded by the heaviness of the cold night.

I stand up and step closer to the screen so I can see the moon. It is half full and mesmerizing, clouds floating over it and darkening the night further. 

Something grabs my attention, and my eyes flick out over the beach. I can’t see much past the dune, but for just an instant, I can make out the orange glow of a cigarette.

 

***

 

A week after my dinner with Charlie, I am about to breakdown and try to have an actual conversation with Cas. 

Not about Lucifer either, about my , and I shutter as I admit this, my _feelings_.

It’s not something I particularly want to do, but it feels necessary after the events the past week.  
Before now, stopping by Cas’ place after work has been kind of a ritual. 

I’ve been doing it at least three times a week, sometimes more. Sometimes one of us makes dinner, sometimes I go home and eat alone, and other nights we walk to the bar and eat with Gabe. It’s a comfortable routine that I have come to enjoy. 

But for the last week, Cas hasn’t been around, and it’s starting to really nag at me. The few times I have seen him, at the bar or when he happens to be at home when I stop by, he has been brooding more than usual. 

When I stopped by last night before I went to bed, he basically ignored me. He gave me half replies, which isn’t exactly unusual, but his tone was far more detached than normal. He didn’t even try to kiss me, in fact, when I went over to the couch where he was sitting and sunk to my knees in front of him, he gave me a kind of look I never want to see on his face again. 

Cold disinterest.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was mad at me, but I know that to be impossible. Cas doesn’t care enough about anything to be mad at me over it.

But still, when a guy who has been trying to get into your pants basically turns down a blow job, something is definitely up.

I decide late Friday night, after smoking a joint Ash was kind enough to pass along the last time I saw him, to go over to his house and demand some sort of explanation.

My mouth is dry and my mind is fuzzy as I make the short walk over to Cas’ house. His living room light is on, so I just let myself in, as I’ve done every other time I’ve found myself at his front door.

This time, however, I am not greeted by Cas sitting casually on his couch or recliner. 

I do not see him writing on his laptop or flipping aimlessly through channels. 

Cas is not pouring over blueprints, or sipping whiskey while he debates the finer points of socialism with some unknown person on his phone.

No.

Cas isn’t doing any of those things, because Cas is not alone.

I try to process what I’m seeing, but my mind can’t catch up fast enough to find meaning in it.

I see skin, a lot of skin. 

Under different circumstances I think I would be jumping for joy at seeing so much of Cas, but as it is, I am just trying not to vomit.

It feels like hours, but I think it is probably only a second before the flurry of motion before my eyes lurches to a stop. 

The brunette Cas is currently fucking into the side of the couch turns to look at me, and her flushed face goes an even deeper red. 

I can’t be sure, because the pot is making me wonder if I am only imagining this nightmare, but when Cas locks eyes with me, the only emotion on his face I think I can pinpoint, is regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm not going to drag this one out...and there IS a reason for it besides just angst.


	20. You Should Know Where I'm Coming From

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You Should Know Where I'm Coming From- Banks
> 
> This song is absolutely perfect for Cas at the beginning of this chapter. It is also my own personal anthem, so have a listen.

“I think I’ll just...” The woman slips off the couch and nearly runs out of view with her clothes in her hand. 

I know this is about the time I should be turning around and getting the fuck out of here because, well, because that is what I am pretty fucking sure I should be doing right now.

But I don’t. 

Instead, I stand in the exact same spot and keep my eyes on Cas as he slinks from the couch and bends over to pull his boxers on. 

I am too...whatever the fuck I am right now, to allow myself to sneak a peek at what Cas has got under the hood, but I do notice the chiseled abs my hands had only felt before. I shut my eyes forcefully when I realize I’ve been staring for too long at them, and let out a breath.

“I-I’m sorry.” I stutter out, because what the hell else am I supposed to say? It’s not like I just caught my boyfriend cheating on me or anything, Cas and I are just fucking around, he is allowed to do whatever he wants.

Except it definitely feels like I just caught my boyfriend cheating.

The lump in my throat is refusing to go away, and my high has effectively been squashed by my stupid emotions. I can actually feel my chest aching as the memory of what just happened begins to play on repeat, like some sort of torturous VCR that lives to make my life hell.

“Knocking no longer in your repertoire?” Cas says casually.

My eyes snap to his and suddenly I am fuming.

Maybe I have no right to be, but _fuck it_ , it is what it is.

“It apparently got lost with your ability not to be a complete asshole.”

I am pretty confident my glare would scare the shit out of anyone, but Cas seems completely unphased.

“Were you under some sort of illusion that I was anything _but_ an asshole?”

The question hits me harder than it should, because _yes_ , actually, I was starting to see him as so much more. 

I am about to reply, even though I have no idea what words are about to fall out of my mouth, when the woman returns. She is fully dressed and pulling a purse over her arm. 

“Um, so I’m just going to go...I’ll see you later Castiel.” She looks really afraid to pass me on the way out of the house, and I kind of love that. She must see something in my eyes that tells her how much I fucking hate her, because she all but scurries around me.

“Goodnight Hannah.” Cas says casually.

When she is gone, and the door is shut behind her, Cas walks around his coffee table and into his kitchen. I hate him because he is going to make me follow him, and I really don’t want to play this his way. I stay rooted in place for as long as I can stand, before stomping my foot like a toddler, and march myself into the kitchen.

“So you going to tell me who that was, or...?” I am very careful not to raise my voice, but the strain is probably going to cause me permanent damage of some sort.

“That was Hannah.” Cas says around his tumbler of whiskey.

“No shit.” I say back. “You been fucking her this whole time?”

“Sometimes.” He says back easily, his face almost entirely unreadable beside the small glint in his eyes, which tells me there is something more, under the surface. “Is that a problem?”

Is it a-?

_Is he fucking kidding me?_

I am about to explode before I remember that- No. 

It is not a problem. Cas is not my boyfriend, and I have no claim to him. 

“No.” I finally say through my teeth, because it is nearly impossible to get the word out. “Not a problem, just a surprise.”

Cas gives me a look like he doesn’t quite believe me, but lets it go. He steps around me and goes back into the living room. I hear the springs of his recliner adjusting and I kind of want to burrow myself into the ground, because I have no idea what I should next.

I can’t deny that I am pretty freaking upset that Cas is screwing around with other people. Seeing them together, made me feel like the world was slowly fading away, like everything was dissolving into darkness and I was being left completely alone. 

I try to shake off this feeling of what I can admit, is some sort of heartbreak, and join Cas in the living room.

“So, how do you know her?” I refuse to say her name again, like it will give her position in Cas’ life more value if I do.

“She is in my garrison.” Cas says plainly, sipping his drink and looking at me with almost a bored expression. 

I have known Cas long enough though, to recognize it as trained, like he is forcing his face to look this way. “She pretends to be one of us, and I pretend not to know she is really FBI.”

I am still focusing on the way Cas’ lips move as he speaks, the tone his voice is in, when the meaning of his words hits me.

“Wait. What? The FBI?”

“That is what I said.” Cas has the audacity to yawn then, and I take a few more steps into the room.

“Cas. What the fuck? Why are you sleeping with an FBI agent?”

“Did you not see her?” Cas asks with a quirk of his brow. His intended joke falls flat though, especially since he doesn’t look the slightest bit amused himself.

I run my hand over my face in exasperation. “So...what? She is making a case on you guys or something?”

“No.” Cas says confidently. “It is not us she is after.”

“Then who?”

Cas just looks at me like I am forgetting something very important, and then I remember exactly who it is the FBI would be after.

“Lucifer.” I say quietly. “She is hoping to get intel on Lucifer, through your group.”

“Yes.” 

“And she has no idea that you know she is FBI?”

“No.”

“This is seriously fucked Cas.” I say with a loud exhale. “Not to mention the fact that I really, _really_ hated walking in on that.”

I don’t know why I say it, but I am not disappointed by the reaction it gets.

Cas looks start;ed for a second, like he doesn’t know how to respond, then leans forward and places his glass on the coffee table. 

“I wasn’t aware that you cared what I did with my dick.” He says it with a cold tone that sends shivers up my spine. “Especially since you have shown no interest in giving it much attention yourself.”

My shock at his words keeps me from speaking for a very long time. I stare down at Cas, who may or may not look like he wants to take back what he just said, but I can’t forget the sting his words caused me.

“You know what Cas?” I say with as much restraint as I can muster. “Fuck you.”

I snap my eyes from his and stride out of his house, letting the front door close with a soft click, instead of the booming slam my hand wants to execute.

The quiet exit represents the moment more anyway. 

Anger is loud. It blasts from mountains and screams from every corner of the earth.

But heartbreak, that is felt most in silence.

 

***

I decide to walk along the beach to try and clear my head. 

My entire body shivers because I didn’t wear enough clothes for an extended journey outdoors, but I find the cold a welcome distraction from what rages beneath my skin.

My head shakes every couple of seconds, trying to get the image of Cas sliding in and out of that woman, out of my head. 

What he said to me, about not wanting him, was entirely unfair. It was almost cruel, come to thin k of it, and my anger at the evenings events begins to rise further. 

What? Because I am not giving it up fast enough, Cas thinks it’s okay to just stick his dick in whatever will take him? I mean, realistically, yeah Cas can do whatever he wants because we aren’t together, but it was still a pretty asshole move. He could have at least told me he was seeing other people. 

From the way it sounded, Cas has been screwing Hannah for some time now, probably longer than he has even known me, but that does little to curve my jealousy.

At the very least, it makes me feel better that he probably isn’t actively looking for someone else, but it isn’t enough to actually make me feel better.

Do I want him not to see anyone else?

Yes. The answer to that, is a resounding yes. 

I don’t want anyone looking at his body, let alone touching it. 

But I am fully aware that I can’t ask him to be monogamous, when we aren’t even in a relationship. 

He would laugh in my face.

Maybe this is just a sign that this whole thing was a bad idea.

No matter how attracted I am to Cas, or how much stupid affection I feel for him, this thing between us is just not going to work.

I am never going to be okay being intimate with him, if I know he is screwing around with other people. 

I decide that I’ll go over to Cas’ the next day and tell him I am going to take a step back. It may mean I lose him altogether, but I really hope that is not the case. 

Despite how pissed off I am about tonight, Cas is still some sort of lifeline for me. Sure I have Charlie now, and Gabe is there if I need him, but Cas...

Cas has carved out a piece of me and made it his.

 

***

I make it back to my back porch after about a half hour of walking near the surf. My teeth are chattering and I am nearly collapsing in on myself as I make my way up the steps of the porch and through the screen door.

If it wasn’t for the cigarette smoke in the air, I wouldn’t have stopped. I would have gone straight into my house and slipped into my bed to warm up.

That is not what I do though, because Cas is smoking on my back porch.

I turn around and stare at him, debating whether or not to have this conversation tonight. I am exhausted, and probably way more emotional than I want to be to talk to Cas. I am about to tell him to just go home, and we will talk tomorrow, when he stands up and flicks his cigarette into the mug that is left out here for that purpose. 

He keeps his eyes on me all the way up until he is standing next to me, and then flicks his gaze to the sliding glass door and keeps walking. He pulls open the door and steps inside, leaving it open for me to follow.

 

Well fuck.

 

I sigh and follow him inside.

“Listen, Cas-” I start but he turns abruptly and the motion causes me to pause. The pause turns into a complete stop, and I find myself locked in some sort of glaring battle.

“What exactly is your intention Dean?” Cas asks finally, after we have affectively stared ourselves to death.

“My intention?” I ask, and when all I get is a nod I roll my eyes and walk past him and into my living room. “My intention is to go to bed Cas.”

“My interaction with Hannah.” Cas speaks from the same spot in my kitchen, and I turn to face him, almost an entire room between us. “It made you unhappy.”

I squint my eyes at him because it’s dark and I really wish I could see the look on his face right now. Of course that shit made me unhappy, but how do I explain that without making myself look like an idiot? The very fact that he called it an ‘interaction’, makes me want to vomit all over his grossly hot jeans.

Too tired to come up with anything clever to say, I just sigh in defeat and raise my hands up. “Yeah Cas. It did. Can I go to sleep now?”

“Why?”

This makes me blink in confusion because that just seems like the stupidest question of the day. Cas takes a few steps towards me, and I feel my sharp tongue returning. “You mean omniscient Castiel can’t figure it out?”

“I have theories,” He says, still moving towards me. “But they do not align with the actual words that come out of your mouth.”

“And which words would those be?”

I can see Cas more clearly now, and he shakes his head slightly. “Just answer the question.”

This is exhausting. “Cas, I don’t know what you are trying to do right now, but I’d really rather wait to do this until I’ve had some sleep. I need to think about this-”

“About what? What do you need to think about?”

“This- us. Or whatever you and I are.” I say with a huff and a gesture between us. “Tonight just...it fucking sucked Cas, and I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Us. You need to think about...” Cas squints his eyes at me and tilts his head in the way that he does, but instead of adorable I find it irksome so I roll my eyes as he continues. “There is no _us_ Dean, you’ve made yourself perfectly clear on that respect.”

My brain kind of short circuits there because I don’t know what he is talking about, especially since he is the one who really set the parameters of our relationship. I may have done it physically, but Cas is the one who put emotional limits on us with his no labels or relationships talk.

“Me?” I question, mouth hanging open and pointing to myself. “I don’t see how I could be clear on a damn thing, considering I don’t know what the hell I am feeling half the time.” I push forward and jut my hand out towards him. “You’re the one who made your intentions perfectly clear.”

“In what way?” 

Cas eyes search mine, like he thinks he can find the answers just by the set of my pupils, or the shadows the darkness is casting across my eyes.

“You said you don’t do relationships Cas.” I say slowly, averting my gaze because this conversation just got a lot more awkward than I am prepared to deal with. “I pretty much assumed that meant our thing here, would just be physical.”

Cas just stares at me. I can see his Adam’s apple bobbing, his jaw clenching, and the creases in his forehead growing deeper.

“I never said that.” His voice is calm, but cautious, like he doesn’t know what I will do with the information, but goes through with saying it anyway.

“Yes you did.” I reply back quickly, irritation lacing my words. 

He definitely said he didn’t want anything more, he definitely said...something....like that.

“No. I didn’t.” Cas shakes his head and places his hands on his hips as he moves a few steps closer. We are only a few feet from each other now, and I can see more clearly the way his body is pulsing with nerves. “I said, I don’t do labels.”

What? 

I give Cas an incredulous look because there is no way that is all he said. From the way he talks, and just the kind of guy he seems to be, I just don’t see him being the relationship type. I see him making notches in his bedpost for the rest of his life. 

The way he is looking at me right now, like he is both terrified and annoyed at the same time, tells me I may have really had the wrong idea though.

“So you’re saying...” I try to finish that sentence, but there is absolutely no ending that my brain is willing to say aloud.

“I do not like checking boxes.” Cas says quietly, a look on his face that makes me feel like I should know what the hell that is supposed to mean. “I prefer to just...be.”

“Be.” I say back sharply. “What the hell are you talking about Cas?”

He lets out a loud, bothered breath and closes the distance between us quickly. Before I have a chance to react, Cas’ body is pressed against mine, and his lips are firmly covering my own. 

Whatever confusion I was feeling a moment ago, slips away with the feel of his mouth pushing powerfully against my lips. I can feel how much he wants me, and it sends jolts of _need_ through my entire body. 

But then again, I have never doubted that Cas wants my ass. 

I realize though, standing there with Cas’ lips moving against my own, that despite how good it feels to be in Cas’ arms, to be kissing him, it still doesn’t make any of the bullshit go away, and I still have no idea where we stand. 

I pull away after a moment has passed, afraid the kiss would get hotter and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from giving in. 

I keep my eyes down, locked with Cas’ lips because they are truly God’s work, and if this is the last time I’m going to kiss them, then I really want to remember them right. 

When I summon the courage to look up and into Cas’ eyes, I am stunned at the way he is looking back at me. The heat from our kiss is painted across his cheeks, but the fire in his eyes has nothing to do with lust. There is something burning in those crystal blue waters, that’s for sure, but it isn’t just his need for my skin. 

There is so much more there, and now that I have opened myself up to really allowing myself to feel it too, I realize it’s been there for some time now. Cas is looking back at me with equal doses of affection and fear, and my lips lift into a small smile. I recognize that fear, I know where it is coming from because I have it too. 

Am I ready for this? What happens if everything goes to shit? What if-

As per usual, Cas cuts into my inner monologue with his special kind of charm.

“You were jealous.” He says it fast enough to be a joke, but careful enough that I know he is trying to say more.

“Yes.” I say simply. No point in denying that one.

“Would you prefer if I didn’t have sex with anyone else?”

I don’t have to think about that one either, even if my answer implies something pretty freaking huge.

“Yes.”

“Fine.” He says it almost immediately, like there was nothing to think about. There is a glimmer of satisfaction to his expression, but he pushes it away quickly.

“Fine?” I repeat, my eyebrows raising significantly.

It can’t be that easy, he can’t just say things like that and expect-

“Yes.” Cas says casually, like he isn’t altering the entire course of our relationship.

“Alright...” I say hesitantly, “So this means...”

“Don’t.” Cas stops me, a slight shake to his head.

I wait for him to say something else, but nothing ever comes. 

Instead, Cas leans back in and kisses me again. It’s softer this time, more gentle than the ambush he laid on me moments before. My hands go up and around his waist and pull him in even closer, despite our bodies already being pressed together. 

Cas moves his hands up my face and to the back of my head, pulling me into him as he claims my mouth with his tongue. 

I know there are things I should be thinking about right now that don’t involve the feel of Cas’ skin under my wandering hands.

Like how I said I wasn’t ready for a relationship, but it seems like maybe I just sort of stumbled into one.

Like how I am still a little shattered inside, and Cas is in the midst of picking up the pieces of his own troubled past.

I should probably be thinking about these things, instead of helping Cas out of his shirt. 

Maybe I should think about how infuriating Cas can be when he refuses to answer a question straight, or how his arrogance makes me want to scream. 

Maybe I should hate that he wears his jeans so indecently low.

Maybe I should refuse to kiss him again until he stops his disgusting habit. 

There are definitely things I should be thinking right now, but my mind goes blank as Cas moves his lips to my neck and begins sucking his way to my collar bone. There will probably be marks tomorrow, but I can’t think about that either. 

There should probably be one of my famous forhead blinking signs or a scrolling marquee, describing all of the things that could go wrong here. It’s possible though, there is a very good reason, why none of those reasons shine through.

Maybe it’s because my entire world seems to falls into place, as Cas starts moving us towards my bedroom. 

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that, when Cas has his hands on me, I feel more powerful than an entire army of soldiers. 

 

Maybe it’s because we are both broken, and it’s only together that we start to heal.


	21. Crystalized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crystalized- The XX

I wake up the next morning chillier than I think I should be. 

Turns out, Cas is kind of an insanely clingy sleeper, and towards the middle of the night I am pretty sure our bodies just morphed into one mountain of skin on the left side of my bed. It would have been irritating, if I didn’t know how mortified he would probably be if he knew what he was doing. 

That made it pretty damn cute.

The night had culminated in both of us completely naked and Cas on top of me as he stroked us both together. My ass muscles ache a little with how much I was jerking into his hand at the end, right before I came. 

This morning though, I am pulled out of sleep by my phone vibrating on my bedside table, and fear runs through me as I realize I don’t have to pry myself free from octopus Cas to get to it.

I open my eyes and can immediately see that I am alone in bed.

“Cas?” I call out instinctively.

I listen, but hear nothing in return and my heart sinks.

Just because he isn’t here, doesn’t mean anything major. It’s not like we committed to some serious thing last night, Cas just said he wouldn’t be banging anyone else.

No big deal.

I keep telling myself that as I reach over to my phone and check the message. Just as I am picking it up, my phone begins vibrating in my hand, signaling more incoming messages.

 

Queen of Moondor: Soooooo  
Queen of Moondor: Cas just came in...  
Queen of Moondor: And got TWO cups of coffee  
Queen of Moondor: Wonder who the other is for????  
Queen of Moondor: Wink wink, nudge nudge

 

A grunt of a laugh escapes me, and I roll onto my back to gain a better position to reply. Her message brings a smile to my face, since its contents tell me where Cas is, and that he will be back shortly.

 

Dean: Can it woman.

 

Queen of Moondor: I will do no such thing.  
Queen of Moondor: You two uh, you know...

 

Dean: Is this some sort of kink for you? Figuring out your brother’s sex life?

 

Queen of Moondor: What? Gross! No!  
Queen of Moondor: Way to ruin it, grumpy pants.

 

Dean: So when did he leave?

Queen of Moondor: I KNEW IT!  
Queen of Moondor: I knew his little smile had nothing to do with my charm this morning

Dean: I’m not admitting to anything Charlie, get your mind out of the gutter

 

Queen of Moondor: Whatever  
Queen of Moondor: And your boyfriend should be back momentarily

I am in the middle of typing out that Cas is not my boyfriend, when I hear the front door open. 

I have no idea why, but I throw my phone under my pillow, and close my eyes. Maybe it’s so I can have another minute to think about how the next scene is going to play out. 

I slept with Cas last night, both literally and figuratively. It’s a pretty big step, and I try to evaluate how I’m feeling about it now that it’s the morning after.

The act itself, feeling my dick sliding against Cas’, was unbelievable. The way he kissed me, the way he touched me like I was something special, it felt right. I definitely do not regret it at the moment. 

I guess I won’t know if I regret it at all, until I open my eyes and greet the man I can feel staring at me from the doorway of my bedroom.

“You had me for a moment.” He says, his voice rougher than usual. I peek one eye open, and see that he is leaning against the doorframe, sipping through a disposable cup and staring down at me. 

 

“I had coffee you know.” I say with a smirk, closing my eye again and turning to my side in his direction.

“I didn’t want your coffee.” Cas says back, and I hear him moving towards the bed. The springs shift under his weight and I can feel his body over mine for a moment before it’s gone again. “She said this one was for you.”

My eyes fly open because I know exactly what I am about to taste when I reach for the cup Cas had placed on my bedside table. I sit up and lean against the headboard as I bring the coffee cup to my lips and sip on it. “Mmm. That woman...” My eyes roll back in my head as I enjoy my coffee, and Cas makes a noise next to the bed.

“It’s a little early for sounds like that, don’t you think?” When I bring my gaze to his, I can see quite clearly what I have come to recognize, as Cas’ lust filled eyes. His comment reminds me of an exchange we had before, and a cocky smirk finds my lips.

“Do you like it when I make sounds like that?”

Cas’ lips curl into a sly grin of his own, and he nods slowly.

“Then it’s not too early.” I reply back seductively.

My line has the desired effect, and Cas is placing his coffee on the dresser and working the zipper of his hoodie a second later. His eyes don’t leave mine as he pulls the jacket off and lets it fall to the floor.

He takes a step forward, so that he is right up against the bed, and I sip my coffee, like his movements and current _fuck me now_ expression doesn’t affect me at all.

But then Cas pulls his t-shirt over his head, and starts playing with the buttons of his jeans, and my face definitely betrays my feigned disinterest. His eyebrow quirks in the way that is does when he is trying to be the sexy ass bastard he knows he is, and I swallow back the groan that catches in my throat. I look up at him through my eye lashes, like I have no idea what he is trying to do, but Cas just smirks down at me and pulls at the waistband of his jeans, just enough to expose those hips even more. 

I follow the sharp trail of his pelvic bone, and pull my bottom lip into my mouth with my teeth, as my eyes move down his body. Cas seems to enjoy my appreciation, and I hear him snicker next to the bed. He waits another beat, just long enough for my eyes to travel back up to his, before he is pushing his jeans down to the floor.

This time the noise that comes out of my mouth is completely understandable, because Cas neglected to put on his boxers this morning. His half-hard cock is staring me in the face and, yeah, I am man enough to admit my mouth kind of waters at the sight of it.  
My hands clench around my coffee cup, and I force myself to appear disinterested as I look away and out the window of my bedroom. “You want to go for a run or something?”

I love to tease Cas, and apparently he likes it when I do it too because I hear him chuckle right as the springs in the bed adjust beneath his weight.

He fits himself over my lap, the sheets and comforter separating my filling dick from Cas’. The coffee cup is pulled from my hands then, and Cas places it on the bedside table. 

“Wouldn’t want to get burned.” He says coyly, “I have a feeling you’re not going to have a lot of control over your movements in a moment.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, my voice rough from want.

Cas answers me with a filthy kiss, and I hope the coffee covers my morning breath enough. His tongue dips inside my mouth and his ass grinds down into my lap. I moan into his open mouth, and Cas starts kissing down my neck, stopping to suck and nip as he moves. His hands trail down my sides as he works his way to my chest and my entire body tenses as my nipple gets sucked into Cas’ mouth. 

“ _Jesus Fuck_ , Cas.” 

“I go by many names.” He murmurs around my other nipple, his tongue flicking and teasing before he bites down playfully.

Cas lifts his hips so that he can pull down the blankets that separate us, and my naked dick springs free. The cool air is almost unpleasant on my shaft, but Cas’ mouth keeps moving lower and my skin heats instantly. 

My hands go down to Cas’ shoulders and squeeze, loving the feel of the well-toned muscles I find there. Cas moans softly as he licks his way down to the inside of my thigh, and my body instinctively bucks up, my dick seeking the wet heat of his mouth. 

Cas starts kissing around my balls and the base of my shaft, and I am finding it difficult to breath normally at this point. 

“Has anyone-” 

Kiss. 

“Ever-” 

Kiss.

“Told you-”  
Lick.

“Patience-”

Lick. Suck.

“Is a-”

Cas takes a long lick up my cock, lapping up the pre-come that is drizzling down.

“Virtue?”

I keep my eyes on that mouth, as it rises from my cock and smirks up at me. I resist the urge to throw my hips up and into his face, but my body refuses to be still. I am itching to feel that mouth around me, and by the look in Cas’ eyes, he knows it. Of course, he isn’t going to just give me want I want though.

“Patience is overrated.” I say between ragged breaths, my hands going to his head and running my fingers through. I give a slight tug so that Cas’ neck is exposed. The dip of his jaw into his neck is begging for attention from my tongue, but I am quickly distracted by Cas’ tongue flicking over his lips. I immediately mimic the action, and Cas surges forward to capture my mouth with his own. 

It is only for a moment though, before he pulls back and dips back down, sucking me into his mouth without warning. My entire body nearly jumps off the bed at the immediate pleasure that shoots through me. Cas’ mouth is hot and working its way up and down my shaft at an agonizingly slow rate. 

“ _God, Cas_.” I moan out, pushing my hands through his hair again as he bobs on my cock. Cas pulls off with a filthy pop, and kisses the head. 

“Not quite,” He sucks the tip into his mouth, with just the slightest graze of teeth. It sends shivers down my spine. “But thank you for the compliment.”

I am about to tell him to shut up and get back to work, but I don’t have a chance before my cock is hitting the back of Cas’ throat and he is swallowing around it. 

“ _Holy fuck! _I cry out, bucking my hips up because my body is no longer under my own control, instead being led by the incredible workings of Cas’ mouth. I can feel his hands, firm and steady on my hips as they hold them down and I do my best to reign myself back in. I can feel Cas’ tongue swirling around me as he goes up and down my cock. I know that even after last night’s release, there is no way I am going to last much longer, Cas’ mouth is just too perfect, too hot. “Cas...” I try to warn, but he just takes me deep and hums around my cock, right before he swallows again.__

__I see stars and everything around me goes white hot, as I fall over the edge and come down Cas’ throat._ _

__I still can’t see straight when I feel Cas climbing up the bed to lay on top of me. I can feel his cock pressing against my stomach, and know I should do something about it, but can’t even move let alone think about returning the favor at the moment._ _

__It seems like Cas understands this, because instead of rutting against me, he nuzzles into my neck and presses a kiss there. It’s soft, and much gentler than I expect to get. A warm flutter bursts open in my chest, like one of those stupid pretty flowers Lisa used to keep on our patio. I don’t have enough time to think about that though, because Cas pulls up and rests on his elbow to look down at me._ _

__There is a small smile on his lips as he searches my eyes for something that it looks like he is pleased to find. The corner of his lips pulls up on one side and he leans down to place his lips on mine. Right before we touch though, I feel his breath hot and inviting._ _

__“I made you all dirty.” He whispers, “Let’s go clean you up.”_ _

__I don’t have time to answer before Cas pulls me from the bed and leads the way to my bathroom. My legs wobble a little, but the idea of getting soapy with Cas brings my body back to the living. Part of me wants to resist and pull him back into bed where it’s warm, but Cas looks determined and I’m far too intruiged to do so._ _

__Besides, the shower is probably the perfect place to give my first blow job in over a decade._ _

__****_ _

__“So, uh if we’re gunna...you know..” I start, looking back down to my boots as I tie them._ _

__“Yes?” Cas says hesitantly, a small smile on his lips._ _

__“Maybe I should have your phone number?”_ _

__It sounds stupid. Actually, it sounds like one of the most embarrassing things that has ever come out of my mouth. Cas looks shocked for a second, but then amused before he pulls his shirt over his head and rubs the fabric over his chest. “I thought that sentence was going somewhere else.”_ _

__“What?” It takes me a full few seconds before realization hits me that, yeah- that opener sounds a lot more sexual than I intended. The thought brings a certain level of anxiety with it though. I haven’t ever actually gone down penetration road before, and it definitely seems like I won’t be able to say that forever. “Oh, uh, yeah...I wasn’t going to go there yet.”_ _

__Cas gives me a shrug with his mouth. “Your loss.” His eyebrows raise slightly and I can’t help but chuckle._ _

__“I have no doubt, Casanova.” I stand up from my bed where I am sitting, and take a few steps towards Cas, who has finished dressing and is leaning against my dresser. “Come on, your number. I’ll give you mine, if you give me yours.” I press my body against Cas’, pushing him against the dresser just enough to make it rock slightly._ _

__“I don’t need yours.” Cas says with a blank expression. “And you already have mine.” My confusion is literally kissed off my face, and it isn’t long before I am pulling away breathless._ _

__“I don’t...have it.” I say slowly, only panting a respectable amount._ _

__“You do.” He says slowly, kissing the ridge of my jaw._ _

__I am debating the point of even putting on clothes today, when it hits me what Cas is talking about._ _

__“You called me before...” My mind tracks back to the other week when I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize and sent it to voicemail. “You didn’t leave a message.”_ _

__Cas doesn’t answer, just continues to kiss along my neck until he makes it to my ear. His tongue flicks along its edges and my hands find themselves on those disgustingly perfect hips of his._ _

__“I thought we were going to go have lunch with Gabe.” I say, pressing myself harder against him._ _

__“We are.” Cas replies as he pushes me back, and towards the bed. “Later.”_ _

__I see no reason to argue._ _

__***_ _

__Cas doesn’t stay much longer at the bar after lunch, and I don’t ask where he is going. I figure if I’m going to play the whole not-a-relationship thing right, I shouldn’t question his whereabouts too much._ _

__“So you two seem to be...” Gabe uses his hands like scales and looks between them. “Better?”_ _

__I laugh around the last of my french fries. “Yeah, we’re _better_.”_ _

__Gabe makes a face. “Too much information Dean-O.”_ _

__“I didn’t even say anything.”_ _

__“You don’t have to, I practically need sunglasses to shield myself from your after sex glow.”_ _

__I let out another laugh at that, and finish my club soda. “Aw, don’t be jealous.”_ _

__“Jealous?” Gabe scoffs. “You’re tainted goods now, I wouldn’t want you anyway.”_ _

__“Cute.” I sigh and push myself slightly into my chair. “So it’d be me, huh? Not Cas?”_ _

__“Cassie?” Gabe’s eyebrows raise, and he shakes his head. “Uh, no.” He walks to the other side of the bar to take an order and begins pouring liquor into a glass._ _

__“Why not?”_ _

__“Why?” Gabe repeats, giving the drink to his customer. He walks back over to me and leans against the bar. “Dean, I’ve known Castiel for a long time, too long for anything to ever happen there.”_ _

__“How come nothing happened when you first met?” I don’t know what causes me to ask, but it does seem a little odd. Neither Cas or Gabe is exactly sexually conservative, it would make sense they had gotten down and dirty at least once over the last ten years._ _

__Gabe shifts slightly and grabs the rag he uses to clean down the bar. “Uh, he was seeing someone at the time.” He starts wiping down the bar and avoiding my gaze. “I was too actually, a hottie named Kal that just about broke my heart when he left me.” Gabe sighs and looks off into the distance like a dramatic eighties movie moment._ _

__“Oh, well...uh that sucks man, sorry.” I say, momentarily distracted from the part where Cas was in a monogamous relationship. “This is when you guys worked at PETA together?” I ask as casually as I can manage, knowing Gabe was purposely hiding something there._ _

__“Yeah, that’s right.” He says as he turns back towards the register._ _

__His casual deception is starting to grate on my nerves, so I decide to just go for it._ _

__“Say, when you were working there, you ever hear of some guy who calls himself Lucifer?”_ _

__Gabe’s entire body stills at the register, and I think if he were holding anything at the moment it would be shattered on the floor. I pretend not to notice, and crunch on some of the ice in my glass. He turns around slowly, and his eyes lock with mine._ _

__“How do you know that name?” His voice is so shaky, it is difficult to keep my own even when I reply._ _

__“I read it in some of the ALF stuff I’ve been reading.”_ _

__“ALF? Dean-” Gabe takes a sharp step forward and I find myself wanting to explain quickly._ _

__“Yeah, I’ve just been looking into all this animal rights stuff and stumbled on it. I saw that some guy who calls himself Lucifer kind of went off the rails and has turned into some sort of terrorist. Just wanted to know if you heard of him.” I shrug, like its all no big deal and watch Gabe’s reaction carefully._ _

__“Uhm yeah.” He says finally, after a long moment of silence. “I’ve heard of him.”_ _

__“Really?” I say innocently. “Cool, so what do you know? The articles I could find were all crazy vague-”_ _

__“Dean, why are you looking into him?” Gabe’s voice turns harsh, accusatory even._ _

__“What?” I shrug. “Just thought it all sounded pretty cool-”_ _

__“No.” Gabe shakes his head. “You and I both know what isn’t being said here.” He looks around and steps closer to me, leaning over the bar and nearly whispering._ _

__“You think you’re clever for figuring out how I really know Cas? That’s not even the half of this story. I am only going to say this once buddy, _let it go_. Don’t look into it, don’t ask any more about ALF, and definitely don’t even think about joining up with Cas. Let him go. Let it all go.”_ _

__My eyes widen as he speaks, until the meaning of his words hit me._ _

__“Let him go? What do you mean? Where is he going Gabe?”_ _

__Gabe’s mouth clamps shut, and I can see his jaw tighten. “Dean-”_ _

__“No Gabe, tell me. What the hell is going on?” I keep my voice low, but put as much edge as I can into it. “You tell me to let it all go, but Cas could have _died_ at that lab. Hell, I could have bit it too, so you are going to tell me what the hell is happening, and you are doing it right the fuck now.”_ _

__Gabe narrows his eyes at me, and his lips purse into something like a snarl. “How is this any of your business Dean? What? You read some articles about lab monkeys and poor farming conditions and that earns you the right to the inside track? You don’t-”_ _

__“No!” I almost yell, but lower my voice again quickly. “I don’t think I deserve anything Gabe. I just....I need it.” I can’t help the way my voice goes soft, my eyes growing more pleading. “Cas...I care about him, okay? If he is in trouble, I...I need to know.”_ _

__Something in Gabe’s expression shifts then, and I know I am about to get what I want. He sighs loudly, and pushes himself away from me. “Dean...this isn’t smart.”_ _

__“I never said anything about being bright, Gabe.” I lean forward and hope the desperation in my voice reaches him. “Please, just tell me.”_ _

__I only have to wait another second before Gabe’s shoulders slump in defeat, and his head hangs slightly lower. “Lucifer and Castiel were the ones who formed the garrison. They were the first ones.” He says it slowly, like he is calculating his words very carefully and it makes me wonder what he is still holding back from me. “Cassie was a different person back then, if you can believe it, he was _more_ reckless.”_ _

__My eyebrows shoot up, but I don’t say anything._ _

__“At the beginning, the garrison did a lot of things that they don’t do anymore. They were less careful about not hurting people, less worried about the consequences of their actions.” Gabe comes back to rest his arms on the bar in front of me. “Eventually, things got out of control and one night we found ourselves...well, some things happened that we can’t take back.” I can see something seriously wrong in Gabe’s eyes, and I want to push for more details but the look on his face stops me. “After that, Cas confronted Lucifer and there was a pretty big showdown. In the end, Luc was cast out of the garrison.”_ _

__He pauses for a moment, like he debated whether or not to add more. “And some of us felt compelled to go with him.” He says it with such a guilty look on his face, I try my best to control my reaction._ _

__“You? You left Cas to be with Lucifer?”_ _

__“Yes.” Gabe nods. “At first, at least. It wasn’t long before I wised up, but it was too late and...Well....” Gabe trails off and his eyes fall to the floor. “Just trust me when I say, you don’t want to be a part of this Dean. Luc, doesn’t forgive, and Cas? He is number two on his hit list right now.”_ _

__I want to ask who number one is, but the idea of Cas being anywhere on that fucker’s list has me practially spitting fire. Gabe’s words send so much adrenaline through me that I am standing before I know what happened. “Like hell.”_ _

__“Dean-” Gabe reaches a hand out, like he wants to calm me down, but I shake my head and pull some money out of my wallet._ _

__“Fuck that Gabe. You said Cas was going somewhere, which means he is heading out for another job?”_ _

__Gabe nods. “But-”_ _

__“When?” I say it as sternly as my voice can manage and when Gabe’s eyes widen slightly I know it’s done the trick._ _

__“Tonight.”_ _

__“Bullshit.” I throw the cash on the bar nearly run out the door._ _

__***_ _

__“Cas!” I shout, as I get through his front door._ _

__I can hear noises from down the hall and follow them to his bedroom. I find him stuffing clothes into a black duffle bag. “Dean-?”_ _

__“Where are you going?” I say breathlessly, keeping all traces of fear out of my voice._ _

__“A job.” He says coolly. “I’ll be back in a few days.” He sips up the duffle and slings it over his back._ _

__“The fuck you are.” I say with so much more confidence that I knew I possessed, and I pull the bag from him. I throw it to the ground next to me. Cas’ shocked face does nothing to deter me, and I step forward. “Just had myself a nice chat with Gabe.”_ _

__Confusion flits across his face, until something much more sinister sets in. “Gabriel.” He says it like a curse word, like he knows all the secrets Gabe just spilled._ _

__“Yeah, well don’t blame him for something you should have told me yourself.”_ _

__“How much did he tell you?”_ _

__“You really think I’m going to answer that?” I say with a shake of my head. “I tell you what I know, and you’ll just clam up about anything else.”_ _

__Cas puts his hands on his hips and gives me a scrutinizing glare. “What’s your goal here Dean? You have a plan or-”_ _

__“My goal? My goal is to get you to not go walking into the next death trap your pal Lucifer has set up for you!”_ _

__Cas lets out a loud sigh and steps closer. “Lucifer has been at this for years, I am still standing.”_ _

__“Yeah, for how long?”_ _

__“Dean-”_ _

__“No, Cas. This is fucking stupid. You don’t have to do this, you should be-”_ _

__“Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t be doing, Dean. You have absolutely no say in how I conduct my life.”_ _

__“Yeah, I know asshole, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings on the subject of you getting blown the fuck up!”_ _

__“Feelings?” Cas moves forward again and even though I kind of want to slink backwards, I hold my ground. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with those?”_ _

__“You’re a real prick, you know that?” I say through my teeth._ _

__“Yes.” He replies back. “I am aware.”_ _

__We stare at each other for a moment, before I finally break the silence._ _

__“It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you to go.” I hold my strong tone, but I’m sure the fear in my heart reaches my eyes._ _

__Cas searches my face for a few seconds before his stance relaxes and he leans into my body, placing his mouth softly on mine. It’s only for a second, but its gentle and my heart kind of melts in my chest. When he pulls back, Cas looks up at me. “I am not going to let Lucifer win, Dean. I can’t stay in hiding the way Gabriel does. It is not who I am.”_ _

__Looking down at him, I think I understand where Cas is coming from, but it doesn’t mean I like it. “I get that, I do.” I sigh and bring my hands up to Cas’ shoulders. “Why is he spending all this energy on you? I mean, isn’t he an animal rights activist too?”_ _

__Cas sighs and steps back, turning from me and running a hand through his hair. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Lucifer...his approach is far more permanent than ours. His philosophy is to remove the threat entirely, no matter the cost.”_ _

__“You mean...” My mind wanders at what that means, but Cas puts me out of my misery quickly._ _

__“He assassinates the people responsible for the mistreatment. Anyone from Presidents of the company to the people who clean the cages. In his eyes, they are all the same and all deserving of punishment.”_ _

__“And you just keep hoping he doesn’t catch up with you at your next job?”_ _

__“Essentially.” Cas nods. “I have evaded him for years, what happened last month was because the animal carriers sold me out.”_ _

__“How can you trust the next group then?”_ _

__“I’ll be more careful.” I can hear irritation creeping back into his words and I have a very strong feeling that I will not be winning this argument. “Listen, I will not stop doing what needs to be done Dean. The mission is too important.”_ _

__“Your life? It’s worth your life?”_ _

__“Yes.” He says without hesitation._ _

__I want to argue. I want to scream in his face that he is an idiot and nothing is worth his life, especially not this, but I don’t._ _

__Instead I lock eyes with him again and set my jaw. My arms go across my chest, and I hope my resolution is written over every inch of my body. “Fine. You want to play hero? That’s just fine Cas. You do what you have to do, and I’ll do what I have to do.”_ _

__“What?” Cas steps back over to me. “What are you-?”_ _

__“I’m not going to let you get hurt Cas. I can’t-”_ _

__I cut myself off because that was about to get a lot more emotional than it needed to._ _

__“So you go and do what you think needs to be done Cas, but I'm going with you.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The outline for this story is showing to be about four more chapters. I DO plan on doing a sequel and have already started outlining it. :)


	22. Cold Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this one.
> 
> Cold Skin- To Kill a King

I am prepared for some sort of epic shouting match between me and Cas, now that I’ve told him I want to go with him on his next job, but so far, it seems I’m woefully over prepared. 

I’ve already thought out at least five different reasons why he should let me go with him in the amount of time Cas has taken to absorb my statement. I have my strong will and stubborn disposition to back me up for whatever he attempts to throw my way. I am ready to fight it out and prove to him that I can do this, and that there is nothing he can do to stop me.

Of course, Cas being _Cas_ , I’m apparently gearing myself up for an argument that isn’t going to take place. Instead of balking and sarcastically denying my claim, Cas is just staring at me. 

We still stand only inches apart in his bedroom, and my body is kind of shaking from the excitement of the moment, despite Cas’ completely unaffected stance.

There is no noticeable change in his demeanor besides an extra blink or two, and a rather hard swallow in his throat that makes his Adam’s apple bob distractingly. 

I should be used to this kind of reaction, the kind I’m least expecting, but I’m not- and I find myself just staring back at him, underwhelmed and confused.

I don’t like it much.

“What?” I ask, putting as much irritation as I can into one word. “You don’t have anything to say about that?”

Cas tilts his head slightly, and his eyes sweep over my body before landing back at my eyes. “You’re an adult. You can make your own choices.” His voice is flat, like his words are being read from a script. “If you want to do something, I assume you will find a way to do it, with or without me.”

“You think I would be going if it wasn’t for you?” I say before I can think better of it. “I care about the cause and everything Cas, but what you do is illegal and I’m not exactly gung-ho about breaking the law.”

“Then why?” Cas has a hard edge in his voice, and I can see his jaw clenching around his words. “Why take the risk?”

“You know why.” I say, rolling my eyes and sighing. I pinch the bridge of my nose because I need some sort of physical reminder to keep it together and not just fall to my knees and beg Cas not to do this. “You want to serve your ass on a platter to Lucifer? Well, I’m going to be there to make sure he doesn’t actually get a piece of you.”

Cas squints his eyes at me, like I’ve suddenly become some sort of blurry watercolor and he has no idea what he is supposed to be looking at. “You think if you come, you’ll have any effect on Lucifer’s plans?” Cas snorts. “I think you have an over-inflated sense of self- importance, Dean.” He shakes his head and a small frown finds his lips. “Besides, there is good information that puts him in Vermont this week.”

“And how did you get that information? The same people who sold out your location last time?” 

“No.” Cas says firmly, but there is something in his eyes that does nothing for my confidence in him.

“Right.” I say incredulously. “Well, either way Cas, I’m going with you.”

“Fine.” Cas says it like a passive aggressive housewife and it makes me smile unwillingly.

“Fine.” I reply back, stepping closer and leaning in just enough to bring my lips just above his. 

“Go pack, I’ll pick you up in an hour.” Cas’ breath is hot on my lips, and I’m almost drunk enough off him to let him get away with that statement, but I come to my senses before I seal our lips.

“You’re good, Cas.” I say it with a gentle peck to his lips. “But you’re not that good.” 

I step back and pick up Cas’ bag off the floor. “You can come with me to pack, and we can leave together.”

Cas grits his teeth for a moment, and I find it incredibly satisfying. He gestures forward towards the hallway. 

“If you get arrested, Charlie is going to kick your ass.”

 

****

 

The mission is something Cas calls, a cluck job.

The garrison travels to one of the large, big company owned chicken farms and steals the chickens. It takes a few months to scout out the farms, and set it up so job night goes smoothly. A few weeks before the major job goes down, the garrison begins stealing chickens in the dozens, just enough for the farmers not to notice, but enough to lessen the amount to take the final night. They have access to a large semi-truck with hundreds of cages, to transport the chickens from the farm to a middle man, who will then separate the chickens into six different groups. Each group of chickens is then sent to ALF friendly vegetable farms, to live out the rest of their days. 

We are coming in for the last night only, and the rest of the garrison has been working through the first steps of the plan for the past few weeks. 

 

Cas explains all of this to me on the drive to North Carolina, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve gotten myself into something I shouldn’t have. 

I love the idea of freeing abused and malnourished animals, but the part about it being crazy and illegal isn’t lost on me. 

“So, how often do people get caught doing this?” I ask, once we are about twenty minutes outside of our destination. We stopped to sleep last night at a motel, and got up really early to make the meeting with the rest of Cas’ garrison this afternoon. 

Cas smirks slightly. “Not often.”

“How come I don’t hear about it on the news or anything? I mean, if entire silos of chicken farms are being heisted, I’d think I’d hear about it.”

Cas lets out a bitter laugh. “Because then they would have to admit to how disgusting the conditions are, and how much harm they really cause those animals. Big companies like Purdue and Tyson, would lose more money from people waking up to the truth of their business, than they would replacing the chickens we liberate.”

“Hm.” I nod and look out the passenger side window. “Makes sense I guess.”

We pull into a Motel 8 parking lot, and Cas cuts the ignition. 

He gives me a look from the corner of his eyes, like he wants to say something before we go inside and meet with the rest of the garrison, but his lips just purse slightly before he opens his car door and steps outside.

I follow him hesitantly, my resignation to go through with this whole thing faltering slightly when I remember I’m going to have to see Uriel again. It hits me then, that I am probably going to be meeting a few others too, and my stomach begins to twist nervously. My pace slows behind Cas, and my feet shuffle against the pavement of the parking lot.

It only takes Cas a second to realize I am not keeping up with him, and he stops and turns to look back at me. “Second thoughts?”

“Fourths. Maybe fifths.” I say back sheepishly.

“You don’t have to do this.” Cas says quietly, walking back to stand in front of me. “You can stay here, rent a room.” Cas snakes his arms around my waist and pulls me against him. “Be waiting for me, naked, to congratulate me on a job well done.”

I consider that option much longer than I’m proud of. 

I hate the idea of backing out of anything, especially something so important, but there is this nagging feeling that tells me how incredibly stupid I am for going along with this. I could get arrested, or shot even. According to Cas, farmers aren’t shy about using their shotguns when their chickens are threatened.

Then again, an even bigger part of me wonders if my fear is really about Lucifer, and the possibility that he could show up and hurt Cas. Even if Cas said Lucifer wasn’t in the area right now, something tells me that I shouldn’t count him out; and the very idea that I would be sitting in a motel like a whiny bitch, rather than at Cas’ side if Lucifer shows up again, that thought pushes me forward. 

“No.” I say finally. “I want to go.” I force a small smile to my lips. “And we can negotiate who is congratulating who, tonight.”

There is a flicker of disappointment in Cas eyes, that he tries to hide, but I see it anyway. His features mutate into something more sultry though, and a sly grin pulls at his lips. “That’s alright, I take just as well as I give.” His left eyebrow quirks up, and the nervous feeling in my stomach skyrockets, but for entirely different reasons.

I know I should probably lead us inside, but with Cas in kissing distance, and not knowing when the next time I would get to feel his lips on mine again, I push forward and seal our mouths together. 

Cas lets out a small laugh, but responds immediately. My hands go to the back of his neck and side of his face, while Cas’ hands pull the small of my back in towards him. We kiss slowly at first, almost like we hadn’t been doing it for as long as we have. His lips are soft but firm against my own as they separate, and Cas’ tongue swipes inside of my mouth. 

He tastes like coffee and cigarettes, and it reminds me that I want to bring up the whole smoking thing soon, but then his tongue’s movements against my own, pull any coherent thoughts out of my mind. The kiss heats up, and I am just about to suggest getting a room now and being a little late to the meeting, when a familiar British drawl comes from behind Cas.

“Not that I’m not thrilled to see you two resolving some of that sexual tension, but perhaps you can save the snogging for after the meeting?” Cas pulls away with a huff, and I love how irritated he looks when he turns back to Balthazar. “Although, I think I’d rather watch you two have at it, than Uriel and Raphael’s pissing match.”

I see Cas’ shoulder’s slump, and imagine his eyes rolling. He reaches behind himself to grab my hand without looking back, and pulls me forward with him as he start walking towards Balthazar.

“Hey Baz.” I say as casually as I can manage, since I am fully aware of how red my face is. “How’s it going?”

Baz sighs dramatically and shakes his head. “Like I said, I could do without the testosterone battle in there. Other than that, I’m quite fine. How are you, Dean?” He looks between me and Cas and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “You seem to be keeping busy.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” I stammer out like the idiot I am. 

I swallow back the rest of my embarrassment at being caught making out with Cas though, and get ready for what was to come. I pull my hand out of Cas’, who isn’t bothered in the slightest by the action. 

The last thing I need is for these people to think I am some sort of kept man, or find any weakness in me. I want to present myself as strongly as possible. Not just so they know I can be trusted, but also in case anyone in there is thinking of pulling something. I want them to be afraid of me, and afraid to cross Cas. 

I steel my expression and walk with an incredible amount of confidence, as I follow Cas through the motel room Baz had already disappeared into. 

I pretend that I am a giant, walking into a room of ants who just asked me to tread lightly on their flower beds; my eyes are hard, my lips are pressed into a fine line, and any sign of emotion is erased from my face. 

“Castiel, I thought we’d have to send out a search team for you.” A dark skinned man with an innocent face but eyes that give his experience away, speaks from the couch of the small motel room. There are two double beds covered in papers and equipment that I do my best not to look at for too long, so as not to give away that I have no idea what it all is used for. A quick sweep of the room reveals two new sets of eyes, and I am sure to look entirely unaffected by this fact. 

“Apparently I’ve missed out on the first round.” Cas says back as he places his bag on the ground next to the bed. He turns to Uriel, who is leaning against the wall by the alcove to the bathroom. “How goes the cock fight?”

Uriel looks entirely unimpressed with Cas’ description of their meeting so far, and flicks his eyes to me. “This one again? Really Castiel?”

Before Cas has a chance to respond, I step from behind him, my chest deceptively large and my shoulders broader than they have probably ever been. “Problem, Uriel?”

Uriel’s lips purse into a grimace. He pushes off the wall and steps closer, and I can feel my heart rate pick up, but I keep my face completely neutral. “Watch it, boy. You may think-”

“Enough.” Cas says casually, leaning over the first bed and picking up a blueprint. “Michael is with us on this. If you would rather not work with him, you know where the door is.”

Michael? Is that supposed to be me?

Cas doesn’t turn around to confirm this, but I suspect it to be the case. Baz and Uriel already know my name, but Cas must not want the rest to know it too. I scan the other people in the room, and it takes all my effort not to scowl when I see the familiar brunette sitting in the desk chair across the room. The woman I caught Cas fucking the other night, Hannah, is hovering over a piece of equipment with headphones on. I would kill for Cas to turn around and see my displeasure at the FBI agent being here. It isn’t because of her involvement with Cas though, but entirely because she has the authority to shut this entire thing down and throw all of our asses in jail, and Cas knows this. The fact that he is banking on her wanting Lucifer more than any of us, isn’t really enough to make me feel comfortable with her presence either. 

I hear Uriel grunt out his disapproval at Cas’ words, but says nothing more. I almost expect him to call out Cas’ alias for me, but he doesn’t and it makes me wonder if that would be breaking some sort of code. Uriel just crosses his arms and leans back against the wall, and I throw a cocky smirk in his direction.

The man who spoke earlier, gets up from his position on the couch and approaches me.

“Castiel may trust you, _Michael_ , but I do not trust people I have not vetted myself, or haven’t proved themselves to be trustworthy.” His words are firm, but not particularly threatening. “I was informed about the lab incident, but one save doesn’t show me anything other than the fact that you aren’t a coward.”

I take in his words carefully, and then shrug slightly. “Fair enough....” I lean forward, with my eyebrows raised, waiting for him to fill in his name.

“Raphael.” The man says, the whites of his eyes large and distracting next to his dark skin.

“Fair enough Raphael.” I say confidently. “But I think you’ll find me more than capable.” I hold his gaze, until he turns away to a red headed woman who was sitting next to him on the couch. 

“This is Anael, she will set you up with gear.” He passes me and joins Cas at the bed, and I can hear them speaking about the mission so far, and the plans for tonight.

The woman smiles up at me as she gets off the couch. “Anna is fine.” She says. “I don’t know why they had to choose such a strange name for me.” She shakes her head, her smile grows wider, and I force myself not to smile back. 

“So, you’re supposed to load me up?” I say almost harshly. “Cas said I’ll be with him, on the grab side of the job.”

“Yeah, you, Hannah, Baz, and Cas will go into the silo with the large cages and fill them.” Anna explains, only momentarily put off by my icy demeanor. “Uriel and I will be there to take the chickens from your cages and put them in the cages in the truck. Raphael and Hester will be on look out at the farmer’s house.”

The new name has me searching the room for the other woman, Hester, but there is no sign of her. “Aren’t we missing someone then?”

“Hester is getting the truck, she will meet us at the farm tonight.” 

I nod sharply and turn to let my eyes scan over the equipment on the bed, they land on three rifles that send shivers down my spine. I must show more than I want to at the sight of them, because Anna steps up next to me. 

“Just in case.” She says quietly, eyeing the rifles with me. “We have to prepare for everything.”

I want to tell her how stupid that is, that bringing guns to this thing is just like begging for someone to get shot, but instead I narrow my eyes down at her. “Only three?”

I see Cas shift a few paces away, and look over his shoulder at me for a moment. He turns back to Raphael though, and gets back to their discussion. I see that Balthazar and Uriel have joined them, and Baz is looking at me with raised, accusatory eyebrows. He can probably sense the show I am putting on, but I don’t let that stop me. 

Raphael and Uriel are bitching about something called a lockdown procedure and I consider joinigng their conversation. I am risking my ass along with them and the mere fact that they have lockdown procedures at all makes my skin crawl, but Anna places her hand on my arm to get my attention.

“One for each group.” She says it like that should make complete sense, but I don’t ask any more about it and instead roll my eyes in disapproval. I let my gaze linger over the other men and Anna tries to get my attention again. “Don’t worry about them. I am convinced one day I will find them all with their dicks out and a ruler being passed around.” She sighs and chuckles to herself, and I swallow down my own snicker.

When I show no signs of amusement, and keep my eyes trained hard on the equipment, Anna lets out another sigh. 

“Alright,” She says reluctantly, stepping over to the bed to stand next to Cas but turning back to face me. “Let’s go over the tools you’ll be using then.”

 

***

There are quite a few arguments about my position and whether or not it makes any sense to let me be in the silos, rather than be look out with Raphael, but eventually it is decided to keep me with Cas. Raphael expressed his desire more than once to keep an eye on me himself, but Cas insisted that I stay with him, which is exactly where I want to be. Not just because Raphael kind of unnerves me, but because if I am going to protect Cas from whatever the fuck is bound to happen tonight, I need to be with him to do it.

By the time the sun has set and we are all gearing up, my reservations about my plans for the evening have settled into calm acceptance, and my hard-ass exterior has kept any signs of nervousness at bay. 

“Alright boys and girls, everyone ready to be covered in chicken shit?” Baz says with a grin as he snaps his utility belt in place. 

I glare in his direction, but let my lips curl into a half smile that Balthazar seems to appreciate. “Thank goodness,” He says in my direction. “I was beginning to worry Castiel had removed your sense of humor along with your virginity.”

His comment causes most of the room to stop what they are doing and flash their eyes between me and Cas. 

Cas, of course, is entirely unaffected by the comment and continues to fiddle with his night vision goggles. 

“Castiel,” Raphael says cautiously. “Are you sleeping with him? Is that why he is here? I have some serious misgivings about this if he is here as some sort of-”

“Hey.” I say without thinking it through. I don’t know what I’m about to say, but I know I need to cut whatever Raphael is about to say off. There can’t be any doubt about why I am joining them, and thinking I am here as Cas’ boy toy wouldn’t help the image I am trying to put out there. I step forward and come very close to bumping Raphael’s chest with my own. 

“I am here because I want to liberate some goddamn chickens. _That’s it_.” Raphael takes a step back and I revel in his reaction to my aggression, and pray the rest of them feel the same way. “So you can take your misgivings and shove them up your ass, _Raph_.”

I let my words sink in before I turn back to the bed and grab another pair of goggles. I walk over to the other side of the room, to where Hannah is placing her equipment into a carrying case and adjust the straps of my goggles to fit my head more securely.

“Nice.” She says quietly. She waits until there is more movement in the room, and everyone gets back to preparing before turning to face me. “He could stand to be knocked down a peg or two.”

My instinct to hate this woman beyond repair is blaring loudly in my head, but I don’t really want my true feelings to be so obvious at the moment. If she or anyone else can sense how much I care about Cas, it is just another thing to be used against me. 

I give her a slight nod, and return to my goggles, which fit perfectly now but need some ocular adjustments.

“Here, let me help you.” Hannah steps forward, and I resist the urge to push her away. I let her turn the sides of the eye pieces until I can see more clearly and then I nod again. 

“Thank you.” I say flatly.

“Sure.” She says, then takes a look around the room over her shoulder with a careful expression that tells me I do not want to know what she is about to say. Her eyes when they reach back to mine confirm this, as she is wearing an almost guilty expression now. “I...I’m sorry about the other night.” She says in almost a whisper, and my entire body feels like it was just set on fire. “I didn’t know-”

“Don’t.” I stop her by raising my hand. “It’s fine.”

Her eyebrows raise and scrunch together for a second, before her expression smooths out and she shrugs. “Alright.” 

Hannah goes back to getting her stuff together, and I let out a relieved sigh that our conversation seems to have gone unheard. 

Balthazar probably has a good idea about the extent of my feeling for Cas, but that doesn’t worry me. I trust him, for some strange reason.

“Okay,” Cas says next to the door of the motel room. “Everyone ready?” He regards the whole room, but his eyes fall to mine and stay there. There is silent conversation going on between us, which I hope no one else notices. 

Cas is making sure I want to do this, and I am silently begging him to rethink the whole thing. The cold set of his eyes tells me my inaudible pleas will go unanswered though, and I set my jaw to tell him the same. 

There is a quick twitch of his lips, and I am suddenly desperate to kiss him, but Cas is giving me his back and turning towards the door a second later, and it’s not like I would have done it even if he hadn’t. 

Baz is beside me then, his hand on my arm, and his smile bright and mischievous. 

“You sure you’re ready to play with us, love?” 

I grunt at his term of endearment, and give him a disapproving glare. He laughs in response and I find the sound comforting. “As I’ll ever be.” I turn away from him just in time to see Cas stepping through the motel door and into the night, the street lamp casting a glow on his body so it looks like he is bathed in some sort of celestial light.

It’s almost painful to look at him this way, especially since I can feel eyes on me and I shouldn’t be spending so much time looking at Cas. I take a deep breath and nod in the open doorways’ direction.

“I’m ready. Let’s do this.”


	23. Colorblind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colorblind- Originally by Counting Crows, but I like Lewis Watson's version better

The moon is high in the sky by the time we make it to the farm. The clock in Cas’ van says its 3:00am, but my body isn’t at all fatigued. I am wide awake with the reality of everything I am about to take part in, and everything that could go wrong tonight. 

I scan the fields, and the surrounding woods for any sign of unwanted company, but come up with nothing. It’s nearly impossible to see anything past ten feet anyway, the night is a blanket of darkness even with the moon shining above. 

We split into two vans, and Baz, Hannah and Uriel sit in the back of Cas’ while Raphael and Anna are in the other. 

“Alright,” Cas starts, cutting the engine and turning slightly in his seat so he could look into the back of the van. Uriel, you and Anna meet up with Hester at the truck. She is waiting at the edge of the trees there.” Castiel points in the direction that Hester was instructed to park the truck, about a quarter mile from the silos. The other van is parked next to ours, both of them on the opposite side of the silos, between them and the farmer’s house. Cas and Raphael were careful to park in the blind spot of the cameras, something the garrison had already accounted for on their previous scout missions. “Hannah, where are we on the cameras?” 

Hannah has her laptop out and was typing away on the keys, her eyes furrowing in concentration as she looks down at the screen. “Just another moment, and they’ll be offline.”

Cas nods and turns to Balthazar. “On her word, we get out and get the cages from the other van. Michael and I will then scout the entrance to the silo.” I squint through the darkness to take a look at our destination, and am surprised at what I see. By calling them silos, I am expecting smaller and taller buildings, but instead I see long and wide structures casting shadows our way. I realize then, that I should have spent more time looking at the blueprints Cas had shown me.

Balthazar nods and Cas pulls his radio from his hip. He holds it ready, and waits for Hannah to give him the signal. She continues to type in whatever code she is using to disable the cameras, until the clacking of keys stops and she gives the go with her finger. Cas lifts the radio to his lips and speaks. “It’s a go. Cages out, Anna to the truck. Hester to the house.”

I take a deep breath, and open the passenger side of the van to step out. Raphael and Anna exit theirs and open the back door. Anna and Uriel meet up behind the vans and Uriel pulls one of the riffles out and slings the strap over his head so it rests on his back. Anna grabs a duffle and throws it over her shoulder. Uriel takes a quick scan of his environment, and then his eyes land on mine. 

If it wasn’t so eerily quiet, I probably would miss his words, but the night is a noiseless void, and I hear him easily. “You better not fuck this up, _Michael_.”

I sneer at him, and spit at the ground before taking a bold step towards him. “I think you better be making your way to your post now, Uriel.”

Cas steps between us, and his hand is on my chest. His eyes are hard and flicking between me and Uriel. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He whispers with a scowl on his face. “There is no time for this shit. Uriel, go. Michael, with me.”

I pretend Cas’ authoritative voice isn’t both incredibly hot and scary at the same time, and nod, but my eyes stay on Uriel until he turns and walks off into the darkness with Anna.

I can hear Balthazar pulling cages from the other van, and I step around Cas without looking at him to help out. Just as I am pulling my first cage from the truck though, I hear something that makes me freeze. I resist the urge to cower inside the van and instead pull my goggles over my face so I can see what I think I am hearing.

Footsteps, pounding into the earth as they move at a jogging pace, coming towards us. My heart skips a few beats before evening out into a steady racing speed.

My eyes scan the night, and lock onto what looks like blonde woman running towards us. I am about to call out, but remember the need to be quiet and instead grab Balthazar’s arm to call his attention to our incoming visitor. 

Baz turns around hastily, and squints into the night before grunting and going back to work. “Relax gorgeous, it’s just Hester.”

I sigh in relief, and promise myself right then that I won’t let myself get so scared again. I am supposed to be strong and terrifying right now, not a blubbering coward. I get back to work, and listen as Cas sends Raphael and Hester to their posts at the farmhouse. I can see the outline of their bodies in the darkness as I haul the cages from the van and place them silently onto the ground. I can just make out the rifle on Hester’s back, and remember the knife I saw Raphael put in a holster at his ankle before we left the motel. 

I try to put both of these images out of my mind quickly.

Cas rounds the corner of the van with Hannah and motions to me to follow him. With my night vision goggles in place, I fall in step behind Cas and head towards the silo. 

According to Cas, the locks on the silo have been picked multiple times over the last few weeks, due to the stealthy small scale chicken liberations the garrison had performed so far, so it would be easy enough to get inside tonight. However, he wanted to be sure the farmer hadn’t caught on yet, and changed the lock. We were also supposed to be looking for possible wolf traps, and any other additional security measures the farmer could have put in place recently. I scan the ground, looking for the things Cas told me to look for, and pray that if Lisa can see me, she doesn’t hate me for what I’m about to do. 

I think she would be proud that I am doing something for once, but the illegal and dangerous part of this mission would probably make her pretty unhappy. 

I try to push that out of my mind though, as I follow Cas and reach the silo door. I can hear the chickens inside, and wonder how many could possibly fit in there. The structure Cas called a silo, was no more than a couple trailer’s wide, and maybe as long as a standard semi-truck. The noise coming from the silo though, made me think there were far more chickens inside than could fit comfortably. 

Cas pulls his lock picking materials from his belt and sets to work on the lock, while I keep my eyes on the area around us, looking for anything amiss. Uriel mentioned something about a dog or two, but said they set up a feeding station to distract them the night before. The food was released on a timer, so the dogs should be occupied long enough for Raphael and Hester to pacify them with muzzles and tie them to a tree.

It only takes Cas a minute to have the door to the silo clicking open, and he reaches for his radio. 

“Open.” He whispers, and looks up from his crouched position in front of the door. His eyes lock with mine, and I hope he finds nothing but resolve there. “You can stay out here, help relay the cages if you want.”

I think about that for a moment, and then shake my head no. “If I am going to be a part of this, I want to really do it.”

Cas gives me a half smile, and surges forward to peck my lips quickly before pulling back and stepping through the door of the silo. I can see Baz and Hannah approaching with two large cages in both of their hands, and give myself a second to think about what I am about to do. 

I am going to go inside, and put a bunch of fucking chickens into cages. 

That’s it. 

No big deal. 

I take a deep breath, and follow Cas inside just as the other two are reaching the door.

It takes me a moment to understand what it is I am seeing.

There is a small walkway around the door, with wire around its edges so chickens can’t get through, and large industrial sized lights coming down from the ceiling. The cacophony of rustling feathers and irritating clucks drown out a lot of my senses, except the smell. The smell of course, is pretty overwhelming, and I almost double over from it. Cas told me to expect this, we even have masks to help, but Cas isn’t wearing his so I don’t make a move towards mine. 

Beyond the small walkway, is just a large room filled with chickens. There are so many of them, they are stepping and laying all over each other. There is shit all over the ground, and none of the chickens I can immediately lay my eyes on, look particularly healthy. My heart sinks at the life these animals have led so far, and the reason we are here becomes all the more obvious.

The chickens swarm away from our feet as we enter their area, and I take one of the cages Hannah offers me. Cas takes one from Balthazar and I watch him as he carefully begins scooping up chickens and placing them in his cage. I watch as he works, a concentrated but soft expression on his face as each animal is brought closer to freedom. 

It brings a smile to my face, and I have to swallow back a more emotional response to the moment, because I realize I am wasting so much time just staring at Cas being an awesome human being. 

The chickens move away from us on instinct, and it isn’t exactly easy to collect them and put them in the cage, but after the first few, it gets easier and I start to get the hang of it. 

Half an hour later, I am filling my second cage and Cas is returning with his third empty one. I catch him staring at me as I work, and I spare him a glance and small smile before setting back to work. 

Occasionally, I can hear Raphael and Uriel checking in with Cas over the radio, but other than that there is nothing but the sounds of the chickens to listen to as we move. 

I am closing up my third filled cage of chickens, when an unmistakable sound makes my entire body go rigid with fear.

A gunshot.

 

I immediately scan the silo for Cas, but realize he had just left with a full cage to pass off. I leave my cage in the silo and race towards the silo door, past Hannah who is frozen in place with her eyes wide. Part of me wants to scream at her. 

Isn’t she supposed to be an FBI agent? She shouldn’t look so scared right now, she should be racing out the door with me. 

I see only green night through my goggles as I leave the silo and step into the night. 

I stick to the side of the silo and hunch down slightly, no clue what I’m doing but too afraid to think it through. My heart leaps in my chest as I see Cas and Balthazar crouching behind the back of the silo, their empty cages dropped ten feet away.

“Was that what I think it was?” I whisper as I reach them and crouch down with them. 

“Yes.” Cas said distractedly. His eyes scan the night and his radio is at his lips. “Raphael, Uriel. Report.”

Raphael’s voice comes over immediately. “We heard it too. As far as I can tell, all is well here. Might have been another farmer shooting a coyote.”

Cas blinks a few times, and nods. “Uriel. Come in.”

There is a long pause, but then Uriel’s deep voice comes rasping through the radio. “Nothing to report.” He sounds strained, despite his confirmation that nothing was wrong on his end, and Cas seems to pick up on it too.

“Seems like it came from your end Uriel. Did Anna see anything?”

I am expecting to hear Anna’s voice next, but Uriel speaks again. “No. She went to look around though, to be sure.”

Something about that doesn’t seem right, and I eye Cas with suspicion. Balthazar looks bored though, and he stands up. “Just another farmer boys. Ours may wake up from the shot though, we may want to think about getting a move on here.”

Cas is still staring off in the direction of Uriel and Anna’s position, and I feel a cold shiver run down my body at the way his lower lip curls into his mouth. He looks very concerned, and I place my hand on his arm. “Maybe we should take a look around before we keep going.”

Cas thinks about that for a moment, eyes still out into the distance, before nodding curtly. “Balthazar and I will go. You stay with Hannah in the silo.”

“No.” I say quickly and squeeze his arm.

“Oh stop you two. Castiel, I can stay with Hannah, you two go calm your nerves. I’ll fill these while you’re gone.” Baz picks up the two empty cages and moves back over to the silo. I follow him with my eyes, and see Hannah at the side of the silo with one hand behind her back and the other at her side. It occurs to me that she is probably packing some heat herself, being an undercover FBI agent, and some of my anxiety lessens. 

I can’t see Cas’ eyes through his goggles, but when I look back at him I can still tell he is frustrated with me. “Are you forgetting who is in charge?” 

“I don’t give a shit what you call yourself, Cas.” I whisper. “I’m going with you, so save yourself the trouble and stop trying to protect me.”

Cas frowns at that, but doesn’t say anything else. He just motions towards Uriel and Anna’s direction and heads that way, staying low to the ground. I follow him, but keep a good six or seven feet between us. I don’t want to accidently slam into him if he stops suddenly, and I also want to make sure he isn’t blocking my view of what’s around us. 

The route back the truck is familiar by now, since I’ve done it multiple times over the course of the night, so I immediately recognize what is different about the trucks surroundings as we approach it. 

First, Uriel and Anna are nowhere in sight, when they are usually packing chicken cages into the truck after they are transferred. A cold, dark feeling turns my stomach as we get closer and Cas stops short. He hunches behind a tree just a hundred yards from where the truck is parked. 

I stop and crouch next to him, confused by what I am seeing.

There is something on the ground, on the other side of the truck, which is just barely visible through the gap in the wheels. I can’t be positive, because I never focused on that area too much during the chicken swaps, but I am fairly certain whatever it is on the ground, was not there before. 

“What-” I ty to ask but Cas throws up a hand over my mouth and his gaze intensifies on the suspicious object on the ground. My head tilts as I try to make it out at our distance, and I am just about to start moving forward again when I hear Cas suck in a horrified breath.

And then he is gone. 

Cas is racing to the truck, absolutely no caution in his stride as he barrels towards whatever it is he thinks he sees. I don’t think twice once I get over the shock of what just happened, and run after him. The object disappears as we get closer to the truck, as it is hidden by the cages, but Cas runs around the back of it and disappears. I hate that he has such a good head start on me, because the few seconds that I can’t see him bring me more fear than I think I’ve ever felt before. 

I round the corner of the truck and see Cas bent over the ground.

His back is to me, but there is no question as to what he is hovering over. 

The face is hidden behind Cas, but I can make out the bottom half of a body easily. My stomach jumps into my throat, and my legs stop working. I want to go to him, go to see who it is that is lying in the ground. See if they are just hurt or...

But my legs don’t work. 

“Cas.” I don’t recognize my voice. It’s shaking, and it sounds terrified and weak.

Cas doesn’t answer me. His head is shaking, like he is refusing to accept whatever he sees before him, and suddenly my feet are moving me forward again. 

“Cas.” I say again, this time with less fear, and more concern.

Cas pulls himself back, so that his body is turning towards me, and looks up at me. I am distracted by the utter horror on Cas’ face, but only for a second, because I realize my view of the person laying on the ground is now unhindered. 

My eyes shift down, and immediately gasp.

It’s Anna.

She is laying in a pool of blood around her head, her eyes open and vacant. 

 

I don’t have time to absorb the truth of what this means, of what Anna being dead on the ground in front of me means, before I hear the cock of a rifle behind me.

Cas’ eyes go wide, and then he is up and on his feet, throwing his hands up and rushing to stand in front of me as I swirl around to face our attacker.

Uriel.

That mother fucker.

“Don’t!” Cas yells. He is in front of me before I have a chance to think better of the situation. “He can have me.”

“What?!” My brain hasn’t caught up the way Cas’ has apparently, because I have no idea what has just happened and my eyes are wide and my mouth is gaping in Uriel’s direction.

“Don’t worry Castiel.” Uriel says with a sneer. “He wants your plaything too.”

I can actually see Cas shutter at that statement, and I feel his hand on my forearm. “And the rest of them?”

“They’ll be disposed of, just as Anna was.” He says it with a cold calculation that makes me remember why it is I have always been terrified of this man.

“No. Just me, let them go.” Cas speaks clearly, but I can see the fear that pulls at him in his eyes.

Uriel shrugs. “Not my call Castiel.”

Suddenly everything catches up to me, and my fear is overrun by my anger. “You- You fucking bastard.” I spit out, my body moving forward until Cas pushes me back. “You’re working for _him_ , for Lucifer? It was you this whole time?!”

I can see Uriel’s teeth as he pulls his lips into an evil grin. “You are far more surprised than I thought you’d be. I figured Castiel would be the one to have the fit.”

I look at Cas, who is standing next to me now, with his arm outstretched over my chest. He glances in my direction for a second, just long enough to tell me to back off and I relax my stance slightly. He says nothing to Uriel when he turns back to him.

The radio on Cas’ belt comes to life, and a voice I don’t recognize comes through. It’s a woman’s voice and for a moment I think it might be Hester, but then the contents of the message tell me otherwise.

“Got the ninja turtle. Barbie is in the wind.” The woman’s voice is like velvet, each word smooth but ridged it bitterness.

Her words send another pulse of panic through my body, as I realize that Raphael could be dead as well. From the sounds of it though, Hester got away and hopefully that means she had time to run to the silo and warn Baz and Hannah.

“That’s our cue.” Uriel says then. “To the house gentleman.”

“The house?” I ask, and look to Cas whose eyes were wide once more.

“He wouldn’t.” Cas says back, his head shaking slowly. “These people...Uriel, these people are innocent.”

Uriel snickers slightly and motions with his gun for us to turn around and start walking. 

“Oh Castiel, you know better than that.” He says from behind us. “Lucifer doesn’t believe in innocence.”


	24. Behind Blue Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behind Blue Eyes- The Who
> 
> ***Some blood and stuff in this one guys, not gruesome...probably between PG-13 and R on the violence scale.***

There are moments in everyone’s lives, which feel like the entire world is crashing down around you. It’s a volcano of emotions, it’s a black pit of despair and fear, and no one can convince you that you will get through it. People talk about those moments being defining, shaping the rest of their lives. 

I’ve already had two of those. 

The night Sam died, and the moment Lisa's soul left me.

And now, sitting around a kitchen table with a my not-boyfriend and a psychopath, I am fairly positive I am experiencing that moment for the third time. 

***

Uriel had walked us to the farmer’s house, where we learned that Raphael had in fact been killed. We literally had to step over his body on the way inside the house, and it took every ounce of strength for me not to vomit. 

“Aw, your boyfriend seems a bit queasy angel.” The woman, whose voice I recognized from the radio, was standing in the farmer’s kitchen with a butcher’s knife in her hand. She had dark wavy hair, a round face with perfectly red lips, and a short petite frame that I had a feeling was deceptively unthreatening. “Should I get him a paper bag?” 

I could hear the laughter in her words, even though nothing but a sly grin graced her face.

My eyes fell around the kitchen as we entered it, and immediately noticed the man duct taped to a wooden chair in the corner. His mouth was taped over as well, and his eyes blindfolded. I could see him shaking, and it made my entire body ache in disgust. “What is going on?” I demanded, more force in my voice than I think anyone is expecting to hear, including myself. 

Cas whipped around to shoot me a warning glare, but the woman just smiled again. “Ooh, I like this one boss. He’s got spunk.”

Her eyes glanced past us and down the hallway where the rest of the house disappeared into, and I followed her gaze. Cas stood directly next to me, his arm flesh against my own, and Uriel was right behind us, pushing us forward towards the kitchen table. 

I don’t move though, and instead keep my eyes on the darkened hallway, until my eyes adjust to the lack of light and land on a shadowy figure. The flick of a zippo lighter drew my attention, and suddenly the profile of a man’s face was illuminated slightly as he leaned against the wall of the hallway and lit a cigarette. 

“Meg, be a dear and see what’s taking those idiots so long to get rid of the other two?” His voice was light, almost playful in the way the words fell from his lips. The man stepped forward and through the entrance of the kitchen, and if I wondered before, I had no doubt about who it was that was standing in front of me now. 

“Lucifer.” I said it almost under my breath, so I’m surprised to see the man smile lazily in response. He ran his hair through his blonde hair, and rubbed the scruff along his left cheek. Lucifer’s ice blue eyes then fell to Cas, and I immediately wanted to tear them from their sockets. He raked them over his body, and I feel Cas stiffen next to me. 

“You look good Castiel.” Lucifer said. “I like your hair.”

I turned abruptly to look at Cas, who kept a cold expression on his face. “I wanted to look nice for you.” Cas said back, his trademark smirk finding his lips but no humor reached his eyes.

The woman Lucifer called Meg pushed her way past us to get to the door. She stopped though, right as she passed me and leaned in close. “You could cut the sexual tension in hear with a knife. You might wanna duck and cover sweetheart.” The tip of her lips curled into a devilish half smile, and then she was gone. 

My blood ran cold with understanding.

Cas and Lucifer. Together?

I turned to look at Cas, but his eyes were set on Lucifer’s. “You have me, why do you need the farmer?”

“I got mom and the kid upstairs too.” Lucifer said lightly. “They’re just as guilty as he is Castiel, you know that.”

All hints of jealousy flew out of my brain as I realized what Lucifer had just said. “A kid? You can’t-”

Lucifer held out his hand, and covered my mouth with his fingertips. He moved like some sort of predatory cat, graceful and swift, seemingly innocent if not for the cold death in his eyes. 

“Cas, why don’t you take your new friend, and sit down.”

 

***

I stare across the kitchen table at the man who should terrify me, but the only emotion I can get a handle on right now, is anger.

“You’re fucking insane.” I say firmly, leaning forward slightly in my chair. “You should be locked up in an asylum somewhere.”

“Been there,” Lucifer says casually. “Done that.” 

“What is it that you want Lucifer?” Cas asks quietly, his position next to me rigid and on edge. I can hear a few different emotions through his words, and it makes me wonder if Lucifer still knows him as well as I do.

I try not to dwell on the exact nature of their relationship, and instead focus on what our current situation is. 

Uriel still stands in the kitchen with a rifle in his hands, and we have no word from the demon woman about Balthazar or Hannah. Things are not looking good right now, and I can’t seem to think about anything other than the fact that there is an innocent kid upstairs, likely scared out of its mind.

“I want to give you an opportunity Castiel.” Lucifer says calmly, lacing his fingers together and placing on the table in front of him. “You have always been so much more than what you are. You are meant for greater things.”

I hate the way Lucifer’s tongue lingers on Cas’ name, and my hands clench into fists. Lucifer picks up on my demeanor, and gestures towards me. “I see you have picked yourself up a pet, and that is disappointing...but not unsalvageable.”

“Pet?” I say back with disgust. “I am no one’s _pet_.

Lucifer cocks his head to the side, a display I am used to seeing on Cas but now find repulsive. “So confident for someone in your position. Are you brave or are you stupid?”

“A little of both I’m afraid.” Cas answers back, and my eyes roll before I can think better of it. 

Lucifer witnesses my familiar annoyance, and it his appearance transitions from casual to agitated very quickly. “Known each other for about six months? Is that right?”

My heart thumps wildly at Lucifer’s spot on time frame, and my eyebrows shoot up.

“Stupid it is then.” Lucifer chuckles haughtily and gives Cas a look of disapproval. 

“How long.” Cas asks, ignoring my look of bewilderment.

“Always.” Lucifer reply’s back simply. “The only reason we have not had this conversation before, is because I have allowed it not to happen. There has never been a time when I did not know where you were Castiel. To think otherwise, is quite the misstep.”

Cas gulps noticeably and a shiver runs down my spine. 

“And that goes for Gabriel as well.” Lucifer adds, his lips pursing into a pout. “In fact, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have found the rat as quickly as I did.”

The mention of Gabe has me reeling, and I am suddenly aware of how many people stand to get hurt because of this man. 

“Leave him alone.” I grit out. “Let these people go, and I-”

“You have no leverage, Castiel’s friend. I don’t see what you could possible try to bargain for.”

“I have a name.” I snap back.

“Yes, you do.” Lucifer says sharply. “Dean Winchester, the recovered alcoholic mechanic, who recently lost his wife of fourteen years to cancer.”

I am not at all surprised to learn that Lucifer has apparently been accumulating information on me, since he has been watching Cas for so long, and I am careful to keep my expression neutral so as not to satisfy him. “You have my sympathies, by the way, for your dead wife.”

“Thanks.” I say back flatly. I lean forward and place both of my hands on the table in front of me. “ _I’m_ not sorry Cas wised up and left your-” 

In an instant, Lucifer arm is moving too fast for me to follow, and something silver flashes through the air. One second later, a red hot searing pain goes through my body. My hand feels like it is on fire, and I look down in a panic to see a knife going straight through the top of my hand and pinning it to the table. I cry out and squint my eyes shut, for fear the image would make me pass out. I can hear Cas cursing loudly next to me, and I squirm under the knife, but I am too afraid to pull it out. 

“Leave him out of this!” Cas’ yells, his hands going to my arm and soothing me the best he can. My eyes open and fall to his, looking for relief. He is staring down Lucifer though, his eyes wide and wild with raging concern. “What is it you want from me Lucifer? You want me to join you? You want me to turn myself over? What?”

Lucifer expression goes as close to serene as someone who just stabbed another person can be, sits back in his seat, and smiles at Cas. “I want you to realize the true state of things, Castiel. I want you to see the world as I do again, and for us to come together to take out the enemy.”

“Fine.” Castiel replies back quickly, before I even have a chance to think through the full extent of Lucifer’s words. The pain in my hand is throbbing from my wound and going up my arm, and thinking clearly isn’t coming easily.

“What? No, Cas-” I try to pant out, but Cas stops me.

“But Dean, my people, and this family are to go free.” 

Lucifer regards him for a long moment, and I am about to throw a third grader level tantrum about this deal, but before I can do so, Meg walks through the front door slowly with her hands raised above her shoulders.

“Party’s over boys.” Meg says bitterly.

“FBI.” Hannah yells into the room. I can’t see her, but I can assume she has her gun on Meg considering Meg’s stance. “Come out with your hands up!”

 

Lucifer’s eyes flash over to the doorway, and his hand falls to his lap. 

What happens next, goes so quickly, my brain can just barely keep up. 

Hannah steps through the doorway with a gun trained on Meg, but quickly points it at Uriel who has positioned his riffle in Hannah’s direction. 

As Uriel is turning towards Hannah, Lucifer is pulling out a pistol from under the table and pointing it in her direction.

Suddenly, the room is filled with gun fire, and I try to throw myself on top of Cas, but the knife holds me down and I find myself covered with his body instead.

When the shooting stops, I feel the muscles in Cas’ body relax slightly above me, and he pulls himself up to stand. I lift my head hesitantly and immediately look in Lucifer’s direction. 

A rush of relief flows through me as I take in Lucifer’s hunched over position. The pain in my hand is too great to feel guilty that I am happy he seems to be pretty severely injured. 

His hands are at his stomach, and blood is seeping out of his abdomen and soaking his shirt. He is still awake, but his eyes have a slightly glassy look to them. I can tell he is trying to stop the bleeding with what minimal strength he can manage in his hands, but I can’t move to do anything about it. 

Suddenly, the pain in my hand amplifies exponentially and I am screaming out curses. I look up to find that Cas has pulled the knife from my hand in one fast motion. “ _FUCK!_ ”

Cas grabs a dish towel from the oven door handle and wraps it around my hand, knotting it at my palm. I wince as he tightens the knot and I hold my bloodied hand to my chest. I feel like I am seeing everything through a fish bowl at this point, and my peripheral vision has gone extremely hazy. 

I turn my head to take in the state of the rest of the room, and find Uriel, Meg, and Hannah all on the ground with Balthazar hovering over Hannah’s body. “She’s alive, just a shoulder shot. Lucky Uriel is such a shit shot, eh?” 

“What happened?” I whisper out, my voice shaking.

“I came in through the front.” Baz answers as he tends to Hannah’s wounds. “Grabbed Raphael’s rifle.” I hear him sigh and see his head shake sadly. “I never imagined Uriel-”

“No one did.” Cas says from beside me.

“Anna?” Balthazar asks, although from his tone, I can tell he already has a pretty good idea of what happened to her.

“Dead.” Cas answers, no recognizable emotion in his voice. I feel him move away from me, but keep my eyes trained on Balthazar. “Hester is missing.”

Balthazar doesn’t say anything else, and the room grows quiet.

I can see Meg beginning to stir on the ground, but Uriel is stone still in his position slumped against the cabinets. There is blood all over the cabinets behind him, and it just takes another second for me to see that the back of his head is missing.

“Shit.” I whisper out, and turn my head away. 

I am momentarily shocked into silence at what I see. Cas is crouched down next to Lucifer and covering his wound with another dish towel, holding it down and taping around his abdomen with duct tape. 

I want to ask what the hell it is he thinks he is doing, but then I remember that I am not the kind of man to just let someone die if I can help it, no matter who they are, and apparently Cas isn’t either. 

My eyes dart back over to Meg, who has pushed herself up to sitting and is cradling her leg, which is covered in blood.

I stand slowly, afraid that if I go too fast I will black out, and make my way over to the farmer who is still taped down in a chair in the corner of the kitchen. There are tears rolling down his face, and his entire body is still shaking.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I say as comfortingly as I can. I grimace as I use both hands to pull the tape from his mouth and go for the blindfold.

“Wait.” Castiel says from behind me. “Leave the blindfold. We will call the police, and then we need to get out of here.”

I look behind him to Lucifer, who is now laying on the ground with his head propped up by some recipe books. I want to argue, but realize how right Cas is. If the farmer sees us, we all go to jail. I nod and lean down close to the farmer. “I’m sorry, he’s right. I’m going to go check on your family to make sure they’re safe, and then we will call the police.”

The farmer whimpers slightly, but nods.

“Spare me a towel or two peaches?” Meg calls to me as I pass her on my way through the kitchen, and I stop short. I grind my teeth because the sound of her voice kind of makes me want to punch myself in the face, but I reluctantly find her another dish towel. 

“You need a tourniquet?” I ask as I pass it to her. 

“You offering?” She says back through a split lip, an injury she must have sustained in her fall. 

I sigh and look around for something to help me tie off her wound. All I can find is a wooden spoon and another dish towel though, so I grab them and kneel down next to her.

“You some kind of Dr. MacGyver?” 

“I saw this on a TV show once.” I say casually, and pull the blood soaked towel from her hand. I tie the two dish towels together in a tight knot and then wrap it around Meg’s leg and tie it again. I place the wooden spoon under the towel and twist it around until the towel is pressing so tightly into Meg’s leg, that I can’t turn the spoon anymore. 

“Well done, D- Michael.” Balthazar corrects himself. “Help me with Hannah, will you?”

“Yeah.” I turn towards Baz and help him prop Hannah up against the kitchen wall. “Where was she hit?”

“Looks like the shoulder and her left knee. Uriel and Luc both got a shot in. At least she took Luci down with her.” Baz stands and goes for the farmer’s phone in the kitchen. “I think I’ve got the bleeding under control though, should be alright until the ambulance gets here. Good thing she turned out to be a fed, or I’d feel bad for leaving her here.”

I spare a glance in Meg’s direction, who looks like she is trying to figure out a way of here on one good leg. “Don’t even think about it, bitch. Get comfortable.”

She grunts and smiles bitterly up at me. “Ouch, you wound me _Michael_.” She says it like she knows it’s not my real name. I don’t have time to dwell on that fact though, since Baz is already dialing the police and I’ve still got to check on the farmer’s family. 

I walk quickly through the hallway and up the narrow staircase to the upstairs level. There are only three doors, and I open two of them to find an empty child’s bedroom and a bathroom. Behind the third door, I see an older woman and a child no more than seven years old, tied up and blindfolded on the bed.

The woman begins to squirm and shriek as she hears me enter, and I immediately rush to her side. “Hey, no. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.” I know I can’t remove their blindfolds, but I hate to see them tied up. “Listen, I am going to untie you but you have to promise not to remove your blindfolds until I leave okay? Can you do that?” Both the woman and child nod furiously, and I set to work untying the child first. I remove the tape on his mouth as carefully as I can, but he still cries out slightly as it is removed.

“Your dad is fine.” I say to the young boy, trying my best not to get any blood on anything I touch and making a mental note to take anything that I do, with me. “The police are on their way, okay? Everything is okay, you’re safe. I promise.” Once the child is free, he doesn’t go for his blindfold but gropes for his mother and buries his head into her chest. 

I try to untie the woman quickly, and remove the tape on her mouth as well. I fully expect her to pull off her blindfold anyway, but she doesn’t. She just cradles her child in her hands and whispers calming words in his ear. I don’t know what else I can say, so I just walk quickly out of the room and close the door behind me.

Once I am back downstairs, Cas and Baz are waiting for me by the door. 

“Baz is going to drive the truck to the rendezvous point. You and I will take the vans back to the motel.” Cas has his hands on my shoulders, and he is close enough to feel his breath on my face. “Okay?”

I nod, since there is absolutely no other option if we want to get out of here.

Cas’ eyes tell me a story of extreme regret and cautious concern, and I want to fall into his arms and just sleep for the next week. I take his hand instead, and squeeze it once, a quiet reassurance that I am okay, and that I could make it back to the motel on my own. 

He sighs, and his shoulders slump, but follows Baz as the British man makes his exit. 

“You’re just going to leave a girl for the wolves, huh?” Meg chides from the floor.

“Pipe down gimp.” I shoot back before I take a quick glance around the carnage of the kitchen. The scene sends multiple shivers through my body and I send a silent prayer to whatever deity is responsible for me not dying tonight.

I turn to go out the door, but another voice stops me.

“He loves you.” Lucifer’s voice is strained, just barely audible, but I can still hear the calm rage in each of his words.

If I walked out the door now, and didn’t turn back around, I know I could convince myself I imagined it. I could tell myself I only heard what my brain needed to hear in that moment. 

Of course, knowing Lucifer had said them, made me all the more curious though, and I turn back around to face him as he continues. 

“Are you aware of that?”

He is still laying where Cas had left him, but a significant amount of blood had soaked through his shirt and pants. I want to ask him how he knows this, and what that would mean, but I know such questions would only be feeding Lucifer the fuel to whatever it is he is going for in this moment.

Instead, I raise my eyebrows slightly and shrug. “It’s probably just because his last boyfriend sometimes liked to kill people. He doesn’t have much to go on, does he?”

Lucifer’s expression grew deathly then, and if he wasn’t mortally wounded I would probably take that as my cue to start running. “You should pray this kills me.”

I swallow back the fear the bubbles into my throat that tastes remarkably like vomit, and push my shoulders up into another shrug. “Not really my style Luc, maybe that's why Cas chose me.”

Before he can say another word, I turn abruptly and head out into the night.

Cas is waiting for me by the vans, and outstretches his hand to give me the keys. His hands are covered in blood, and shaking noticeably, but his face is as emotionless as it has ever been. “Follow me back, no stops.” He says it like he is commanding a member of his garrison, and I wonder if that is the only way he knows how to act at the moment.

I nod softly and take the keys from him, letting my fingers linger over his for the briefest of moments. “Yes, sir.”

I try to keep my voice light, but Cas doesn’t pick up on it. His lips don’t give me the twitch of life I am looking for, and it makes me sigh. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m okay, you’re okay. Baz...I’m so sorry about Ann-”

“We have to go.” Cas cuts me off and turns back to his van. “Cops will be here any minute.”

I take that as my cue, and climb into the driver’s side of my van. If Cas wants to push off the emotional shit-storm portion of this evening, that is fine by me.  
***

 

The drive back to the motel is slow and painful. Not just physically, but also mentally as my mind tries to pull together everything that had happened, and everything that could happen next. 

Anna is dead. Uriel was a fucking traitor, but now dead. Hester is missing. Hannah is outed as an FBI agent. Lucifer may die, he may live. That Meg bitch is destined for the big house.  
Baz, Cas, and I are all safe. 

If i could have protected anyone other than Cas, it would have been Balthazar, so I’m grateful he made it out unscathed. My mind floods of images of the kitchen covered in blood, and think about how Cas did his best to keep Lucifer alive tonight. 

I can’t deny that sparks of jealousy took over when I saw him patching that fucker up, but I know it was the right thing to do. It’s obvious that Lucifer and Cas had something pretty serious at some point, and I feel another pang of something awful when I think about whether or not Cas was ever in love with him. 

Love.

Lucifer had said that Cas loves me.

My instinct is to balk and throw the comment away, because under no circumstances could I possible entertain the thought that Castiel, of all people, _loves_ me. He can barely commit to not fucking other people, how could he possibly have fallen in love with me?

Then again, the more I think about it, the less absurd it sounds. I mean, not that Cas loves me now, but that maybe he could in the future. After tonight, it’s obvious he cares for me a great deal, since he was willing to do something as stupid as sign away his life to Lucifer for me. I would never have let him do it, of course, but it means a lot that he would be willing to. 

I would have done the same thing for Lisa. 

Would I have made that kind of deal for Cas? 

I think about it more as I pull into the motel parking lot next to Cas, and turn off the ignition. I see him out of the corner of my eye climbing out of the van, and I make to do the same, but the expression on his face stops me. 

He looks utterly defeated.

The lines around his eyes and forehead are like craters, the bags under his eyes nearly bulging. He looks absolutely awful, and it stuns me into stillness. He doesn’t wait for me to head to the motel room, instead just walking straight through the door. I see it bounce instead of slam shut, so I know that he has thought at least enough to block the entry way with the door clasp. 

I prepare myself for whatever version of Cas I am about to meet, and clamor from the car. My hand is pulsing with pain, and I would kill for a bottle of Jack to dull everything away. The events of the evening push at my sobriety, and if Cas were to pick up a bottle of something tonight, I’d worry about my convictions to stay clean.

I walk slowly to the motel room door, and push it open carefully. When I don’t immediately see Cas, I step through the door and close it behind me. 

“Cas?” I ask into the darkened room. My answer is the grumble of pipes coming to life as water beats down from the shower head in the bathroom. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see a trail of clothes leading the bathroom. It makes sense that Cas would want to shower, since he was covered in blood back at the farm. 

I look down at myself, and find that I am in no better shape and should probably clean up before I try to get my hand looked at by a doctor. I carefully pull my clothes off, wincing as my hand moves more than I want it to. I keep the towel wrapped around it for now, to keep pressure on the wound. 

I can hear the water crashing around Cas’ body as I enter the bathroom, and can see him through the translucent shower curtain fairly well. He is standing under the shower stream, his arms outstretched and braced against the tiled wall. His head is down, and water spills over its edges to block his face. 

Something about his posture, makes me want to wrap my arms around him, like he is just barely holding on and in desperate need of....something.

I pull the shower curtain back and step in behind him. 

Cas makes no move to signal he is aware of my presence. He just continues to stand under the water, his head bent down to the tub. I think I hear some sort of sound escape his lips as I approach him, but I can’t make out whatever it is supposed to be. 

It occurs to me that Cas may not want me right now, and would rather deal with whatever he is feeling on his own, and it makes me pause.

“Cas?” I say quietly, just barely audible over the water.

He doesn’t say or do anything in response.

I’m afraid if I say or do the wrong thing, he may lash out and I’ll feel even worse, but there is just something about him and the way he is standing, that makes me want to take the chance. 

Besides, my need to feel him, to hold Cas and have Cas hold me, out weighs any reservations I may feel about being rejected.

I step closer to him, so that my chest is almost touching his, and reach out to lay my good hand on his back. Cas’ body jerks slightly at my touch, but grows still again right after, so I take it as a sign that it’s alright. I move even closer, and press my body against his back while I wrap my arms under his, and around his chest. The water stings as it seeps into the towel and cuts into my wound, but I barely feel it.

I let my head drop to his shoulder blades and nuzzle my face into his wet skin. Cas has yet to move, his arms still brace his body against the wall and his head droops. I feel his body shake slightly under mine though, and pull my head up to look around to his face. 

Cas’ forehead is creased in a concentrated grimace, like he is desperately trying to keep everything inside of himself, his mouth is turned down into the saddest expression I have ever seen. It makes me pull him tighter to myself, and kiss his cheek. 

The water falls down my face as I push it next to his and hold it there. I feel Cas’ body shift as he releases his hold on the wall and brings his arms down and onto mine, which still lay wrapped around him. He grips at my forearms tightly, like he was just saved from drowning and I am his life raft. 

My lips kiss under his jaw and up to his cheek again, comforting and chaste. 

Cas lets his head fall back onto my shoulder for a moment, then brings it back to rest against mine. 

Just as his body relaxes against mine, I feel him let go.

I don’t know how long we stay that way, clinging to each other as Cas sobs quietly into the shower’s stream, but it is the catharsis we both need. 

The tears on my face mingle with Cas’, and the water swirls pink at our feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more and an epilogue/prologue of the next part in the series.
> 
> What did you think of the confrontation? Did it work??


	25. How My Heart Behaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four weeks later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How My Heart Behaves- Feist

“Come on buddy, I know you’re in there.” I knock on Gabe’s door again. “I’m not leaving until you answer, so you might as well open up and-”

The door swings open, and an un-showered, scruff faced Gabriel glares up at me.

“What do you want, Winchester?” He grumbles. 

I can smell the gin and weed from the hallway of his apartment complex, and wince slightly at the BO that comes wafting my way when Gabe steps closer.

“I thought I told you to just-”

“Yeah, yeah.” I push past him, holding my breath and trying to control my facial expressions. “I know what you said. I’m just here to make sure you eat something that doesn’t need a prescription, and maybe convince you to shower.”

I hear Gabe shut the door behind me, and I immediately go to his kitchen, where I start collecting empty beer bottles and putting them in the trash. Gabriel slumps against the counter and begins rolling a joint. 

“Don’t need to shower. Maybe the smell will keep me safe.”

“Come on, man.” I say with a shake of my head. “Don’t think that way. He can’t even be healthy enough yet to-”

“He’ll find a way.” Gabriel mumbles around his rolling paper. 

I throw the remaining beer bottles in the trash and pull the nearly rolled joint from Gabe’s hands. “Hey, listen man,” I lean down and place both of my hands on Gabe’s shoulders. “I know you’re having a hard time, losing your sister and now this, but I _promise_ , Cas and I aren’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Just like you protected Anna?” Gabriel says coldly, his eyes hard and unforgiving as they stare me down.

My eyes close and I take a step back, not knowing how to respond. “Gabe, man-”

“No. I’m sorry.” Gabe shakes his head and picks the joint back up. “I know it wasn’t your fault. Anna, she was...no one could tell her what to do, even me.” He finishes rolling the joint and picks up the lighter lying next to it. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I let her join, hell I _encouraged_ it. What kind of big brother does that make me?”

“Hey, we can stand here and battle out who was a worse big brother, but I don’t think Sam or Anna would appreciate it.” I pluck the lighter and joint from Gabe’s hands. “It’s not going to bring them back.” I stick the joint between my lips and light it, taking a long drag and holding it in before releasing, and passing it to Gabe. 

“That’s good.” I cough out. “How many is that today?” 

He ignores me, and holds in his inhale for a moment longer than I did, before blowing it out. 

“The regulars keep asking about you. Between Charlie and her girls, and Cas and me, the bar is doing alright, but I think you should think about-”

“I’m selling it.” Gabe cuts me off. 

“Why?” Gabe gives me a look like I’m missing a very important piece of information, but I just return the look. “What?”

“He’s out. Time to duck and cover, Dean-O.”

I sigh and nod my head as Gabe passes me the joint. 

It has been all the news has talked about for the past week.

The leader of an underground domestic terrorist group escaped from custody while he was being trasfered from the hospital to prison. 

Lucifer was a free man.

“Yeah we’ve been talking about hitting the road too.” I confess. 

It was something Cas and I have been arguing over ever since Lucifer broke out, but last night Cas eventually relented and agreed to spend some time away. If Lucifer thinks we have moved, maybe we will be able to return back to Lewes after a little while. He probably wouldn’t expect us to double back. 

“You could come with us, maybe hire a manager or something to run the bar while you’re gone.”

Gabe laughs bitterly. “You don’t understand. Now that Lucifer knows that bar is mine, it’ll be burned to the ground the first chance he gets.” He takes another hit, and passes it back to me. “But that’s what I get for testifying against him the first time.”

That piece of information reminds me of another question I had for him. 

“Speaking of which, why keep the name Gabriel? I mean, why not change it to something he wouldn’t recognize?”

Gabe laughed again. “That was my genius idea of hiding in plain sight. Gabriel isn’t my real name, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I figured.” I snort. “So what _is_ your real name?”

Gabriel smirks. “Robert. Can you believe that?” He gestures towards himself and all his dirty bathrobe glory. “ _This_ is a Rob.”

I laugh, which makes me cough. My throat is sore from the smoke, and my head is already fuzzing nicely from the drug. “Listen, Cas is already packing some things up. Why don’t you _shower_ , then come stay with me until we figure out where we are going to go.”

Gabe considers that for a moment, then nods reluctantly. “It’s a good a plan as any, I guess.”

I pat him on the shoulder and point my finger at him. “Seriously, though, you smell like shit. Take a damn shower before you come in my house.”

Gabe rolls his eyes and shoves my hand off his shoulder. “I’ll bathe in bleach for you.”

I turn to leave and throw a smile at him over my shoulder.

“Just so long as you don’t drink any of it first.”

****

I stop into the coffee house on my way home, to see Charlie. 

She is standing behind the counter, throwing pennies into the tip jar to entertain herself, and the joint I recently smoked finds this fact hilarious.

I step up and smile brightly at her, hoping her period of being pissed at me and Cas for everything that went down, had finally come to an end. “Hey pretty lady.” I say so sweetly I almost want to smack myself for it.

She looks up at me and cocks her head to the side. Her eyebrows raise, and her face looks annoyed but her demeanor is much softer than it has been over the last few weeks. 

When she first heard about what happened at the farm, she slapped Cas right across the face. He took it, barely reacting at all, despite the full force of her hand against his cheek. She yelled, and yelled some more, until her girlfriends pulled her away and brought her home. 

From what Cas said about it, her reaction was more about fear than anger. Apparently, when Charlie is afraid for her brother or anyone else she cares about, she lashes out. Cas knew what was coming, but still told her the truth anyway, and I respected him for that. 

She completely froze me out at first, not taking my calls or talking to me when I showed up at the coffee shop. Cas told me that was her way of working through it, and that she was just as mad at me, as she was him, for putting myself in danger like that. 

As screwy as that sounded, I got it.

But lately, she has been softening to me again, and even replying to texts I’ve sent.

“Do I get black again or do you think you could make me the good stuff today?” I ask her coyly. The pot has me feeling pretty silly, but I try my best to tap that down.

“I don’t know,” She looks up to the ceiling, pretending to deliberate. “Which will you choose?” She gestures towards the tip jar and I draw my attention down to them.

In Charlie’s careful print, the cards over the jars read, _War_ and _Peace_.

Her passive aggression makes me chuckle and I pull out my wallet. “That’s a no brainer.” I put a five dollar bill in the peace jar, and smile back at her. “Did I pass the test?”

Charlie nods. “Very well, small or large?”

“Just a small.” I say back. “And a black for Cas.”

“Hey, I didn’t say-”

“Come on Charlie.” I interrupt. “He’s your brother, who loves you and promises not to do anything so stupid again.” I give her a pout and my best cute puppy expression. “Have a heart will you?”

“I do have a heart!” She cries back. “I just...God! Him and his stupid mission. I mean, I get it, you know I do. But I just...I keep thinking about how I could have lost him, could have lost you both, and I just- it makes me all ragey.”

“I know.” I say and walk around the counter so I can wrap her up in a hug. I speak down into her bright red hair, and feel her relax against me. “But maybe you could work past the rage and just settle on gratefulness that your brother is still alive.”

She sighs and tightens her hold on me. “I know, you’re right. I’ll do better.” She pulls back just enough to look up at me. “It’s pretty cool that I have two brothers now.”

That makes my entire face light up, and Charlie beams right back at me.”Even if you do smell like a cafe in Amsterdam.”

I chuckle and she pulls out of my arms to start working on our coffees. “So, you two still planning on hitting the road for a while.”

“Yeah,” I say leaning against the counter. “Seems like the smartest plan.”

“It’s a good idea. The girls and I are thinking about taking a little vacation ourselves, as soon as Gabriel feels up to working again.”

“I think I may have solved that problem.” I say with a wink.

“Oh yeah?” Charlie places tops on both of the coffees and hands them to me.

“Well, no guarantees, but I think I at least convinced him to shower.”

I walk over to the other side of the counter and place the cups down.

“That alone is a miracle. Nice work.” 

I reach into my pocket for my wallet again and Charlie shoos me away with a small smile on her lips.

“It’s peace coffee. You shouldn’t have to pay for peace.”

 

***

I make it back to Cas’ place fairly quickly, and let myself in the front door. 

I can see him sitting on his back porch, and my stomach drops slightly at the thought that he might be cheating. I walk quickly to the back door, hoping to catch him in the act so maybe he will feel bad and try harder, but am pleasantly surprised to see his finger cigarette-less.

I push the door open with my shoe and slide through the opening.

“You thought I was smoking.” He says down into his book.

“Yes.” I reply without hesitation. “You’ve been a whiny asshole about those things all week, figured you’d slip at least once.”

“It’s still an option, especially when you come over smelling like that.” Cas reaches his hand up, eyes still on his book, and I put his coffee into it. “I see her highness has begun to thaw.”

I laugh and sit in the plastic chair next to Cas’. “Yeah, I think she feels bad for putting you through the ringer.”

“Hmm.” Cas sips his coffee, and I do the same. “Doesn’t taste like spit at least.”

“Good to know.” I say back, looking out at the ocean. “Although I am bothered that you feel like you’d be able to pick out the flavor of your sister’s spit.”

Cas gives me an annoyed look and rolls his eyes at me. “Charming.”

“You like it.” I reply back, giving him my best shit-eating grin.

Cas turns back to his book, but I hear him mumble a quiet, “I do.”

 

***

“ _Fuck, Dean_.” Cas moans into my shoulder blades, as he pushes inside of me.

It doesn’t hurt like the first time, but Cas still goes slow, making sure I am ready before he slides out, and back in again. 

I feel his lips kissing along my spine, and arch up into them. Cas’ hands run down the sides of my legs and wrap around my thighs. “Feel so good.” He mumbles against my skin, and I shiver as he moves again, thrusting deeper inside of me.

I moan out my agreement, and rock against him. “ _Cas_. I beg him with my mind to touch me, my throbbing length dripping down onto the sheets.

He moves his hand up to caress my sack, pulling out and pushing back in again, harder this time. “ _Fuck._ Yeah, like that.”

Cas makes his way to my shaft, wraps his hand around it, and begins to thrust faster. I can tell by the way he is panting against my neck that he isn’t going to last long, which is fine by me because I can barely hold myself together, either. Cas’ hand strokes me in rhythm with his cock sinking inside of me, and it’s quickly pushing me closer to my release. His grip is strong and perfectly tight around me, and I fuck into it while he fucks into me. 

“Dean, I..I..” Cas’ shakes as he thrusts faster and faster against me, and I barely hold on long enough to tell him I am there with him. I feel my orgasm red and hot in my stomach and let it explode through me, spilling over Cas’ hand and onto the sheets. Cas follows right after me, crying my name and collapsing on top of me once he is empty.

When he finally gather’s enough strength to roll off of me, and remove the condom, I notice pain in my hand that wasn’t there moments before. I wince slightly, and roll to my back, holding my bandaged hand to my chest.

“Did I hurt you?” Cas hovers over me, and his concerned expression deserves the kiss I thrust up at his lips. 

“My ass or my hand?” I say back, pecking his lips again before I rest my head back on the pillow.

“Cute.” Cas glares down at me. “Seriously, is your hand okay? Do you need a Vicodin?”

I smile up at him and shake my head slightly. “Look at you, going all mother bear on me.”

Cas grunt and lets out a loud sigh before falling to his back. I can feel the wet spot between my thighs, and I want to move, but Cas nuzzles in next to me and I decide to just suck it up. 

His lips rub agaisnt my shoulder as he speaks. “I don’t know why I let you think you’re so amusing.”

My mind immediately tells me that we both know why that is, but I keep it to myself. 

The emotional status of our relationship has yet to be breeched, and I can’t say I am ready to go there yet, anyway. As far as I can tell, Cas isn’t either, so it works out nicely. 

Still, whether we say it or not, I think we both know why it is Cas puts up with me, and I with him.

 

***

 

Later that night, I crawl back into bed next to Cas, after spending an hour on the phone catching up with Bobby and Ellen. 

The clean sheets are cold against my bare legs, and I’m grateful for the shirt I decided to keep on. Cas shuffles slightly in his sleep, and gravitates towards me as soon as I am settled in bed. I lift my arm up so he can scoot in next to me, and kiss the top of his head while he mutters incoherently. 

I consider waking him up with some exploration in his boxer briefs, but decide to hold off until the morning. It feels too good, having Cas safe and asleep in my arms, and I don’t want to move. 

The threat of Lucifer looms over us, but I do not feel afraid at the moment. From the way Cas describes him, it would be unlike Lucifer to attack right away. He’s more of a wait until you least expect it kind of guy, and we don’t plan to be here when he is ready to make his move. 

We finally agreed on a plan over dinner this evening with Gabe. The three of us will make a cross-country road trip to the west coast, and find odd jobs here and there to get by for a while. Charlie and the girls can come visit, and after some time passes or Lucifer is caught again, we will come back to Lewes. We plan to use our real names and credit cards, every once in a while, that way if Lucifer comes looking for us, he is led away from our home. 

I will have to come up with an alias though, for when we don’t want Lucifer to know where we are, and Cas and Gabe had a lot of fun over dinner coming up with the worst names imaginable. 

It won’t be so bad, taking a road trip with Cas and Gabe. Under different circumstances, I would dare to say it will be fun. Of course, the constant threat of being found and eviscerated by Lucifer kind of puts a damper on the whole thing.

Cas shifts in his sleep, and I feel him curl even further into my body. My arm wraps protectively around him, but I wince in pain as my hand bumps his chest. I barely managed to hold my coffee earlier, but my hand is healing up nicely. The doctor suspected nerve damage, and I can’t hold things as tightly as I should be able to yet, but hopefully with time it will get back to normal. 

Time heals all things, right?

I keep telling myself that. 

That _time_ is what has healed my heart from Lisa’s death. 

Time is what has allowed me to bring Cas in my bed every night. It has made it so I enjoy making love to Cas, instead of feeling guilty about it. 

Time has allowed me to entertain the idea of falling in love again, something I thought categorically impossible. 

Who knows where Cas and I will be, and how we will feel about one another when we make our way back to Lewes in the future. 

Who knows if those three little words will have been spoken, or if they will stay locked away in each of our emotionally stunted minds.

Only time will tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for the first story. 
> 
> The epilogue will serve as the prologue for the second story in the series, and if you don't like cliffhangers, I suggest you hold off reading it until the first story begins.
> 
> I am going to step away for a little while, and try to work on another story I've completely neglected. But knowing me, and my love for these two assholes, you won't have to wait too long for the next part of this series. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and for the comments and kudos. It really makes my day to read what you think, as well as encourages me to keep writing!


	26. Prologue: Souls of Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the not so distant future...
> 
>  
> 
> ***trigger warning for suicidal thoughts***

Water drips loudly from the pipe next to my cot, and it pulls me out of unconsciousness.

I hear it fall into the collected puddle, and think of the ocean I haven’t seen in almost two years.  
I open my eyes slowly, and wait for the assault of the light from down the hall, to butcher my head open.

It comes on, just as expected, and I wince and put my hands to my temples, pushing on them to relieve some of the tension there. One hand gropes the floor next to the stuffed piece of fabric I sleep on, and as soon as my hand slips around the familiar glass bottle, I let out a small sigh of relief. The cap is still off from the night before, and I lift my head just enough to take three large gulps of the stinging amber liquid. 

I fall back to the cot, and close my eyes again, hoping to fall back asleep.

Sleep doesn’t come though, and soon the fluorescent lights above the sink flick to life. 

8:00am.

The fluorescents buzz above my head, like miniature bombs exploding every other millisecond. 

My own special alarm clock. 

I groan and pull myself up again, but this time I swing my legs over the side and scoot back to rest my back against the wall. The bottle of whiskey on the floor somehow makes its way back into my hand, and I begin my day how I ended my night.

Ten minutes later, the bottle is nearly empty, but I can’t feel a thing.

I stagger to my feet and go to the toilet to take a piss. The momentarily relief of it, confuses my body enough to think it is satisfied, but my brain quickly sets it straight.

After I’m finished, I step over to the sink and place my hands on either side of it. I keep my eyes trained on the faucet, and wash my hands and face, never glancing up to catch my reflection.

I don’t know why he put a mirror in here, it’s not like I can stand to look at myself anymore. 

Then again, that is probably the exact reason he put it in here.

Just another way to torture me. 

I hear footsteps coming towards my cell, and I swallow back any remnants of fear, the man I used to be would have felt. 

The footsteps grow closer, and I turn around to pick up the bottle of whiskey once more. I drain it before he gets to my cell, but I still hold it in my hands when he stops in front of the door, and leans against the bars.

“Morning, sunshine.” 

Lucifer smiles at me, and if I could manage any expression other than cold detachment, I would probably give him that cocky smirk I learned years ago. 

“Big day.” He says through the bars, looking at me with calculated amusement.

“Better get to it then.” I reply, just as I have ever other day.

I turn away from him, just for the simple fact that I used to hate watching him open the cell. I cling to the ritual of my distate at the action, even if it no longer brings me pain. It’s as if its the last shred of who I was, and I am stupid enough to want to hold on to it.

I used to cry when he put me back in at night. It wasn’t long though, until I relished returning to my cell, blood and sweat soaking my body. The tears, trained to be dry and silent, would then only come when I was brought out.

Now, though... 

Now I feel nothing.

Once I hear his footsteps behind me, I am reminded of the choice I make every day. 

The choice to do as I am told, instead of breaking the bottle of whiskey Lucifer keeps giving me, and slitting my wrists with the glass.

The choice to become a person I no longer care to recognize, to protect the ones I love the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will take place in two time periods. The present, where we see Dean is now (with Lucifer), and the past. The past will pick up shortly after the first story ended, and you will get a staggered timeline of how Dean ended up where he is, as well as what is to become of his future.


End file.
